


Ludo, Ergo Sum

by sealdog



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, M/M, Multi, Prank Wars, background gaige/angel, background nisha/jack, background nisha/jack/vaughn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-05-22 09:57:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6074886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sealdog/pseuds/sealdog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Minions, peasants, peons! Welcome to the Helios Hyperion fraternity, and congratulations on your good taste.</p><p>Your mission, should you choose to accept it, and by that I mean you don't really have a choice because I'm your boss and I say so, is to prank the ever-loving <i>crap</i> out of the Pandorans. Make me proud, kiddos."</p><p>---</p><p>Rhys and Vaughn join Hyperion, make some new friends, get into a prank war, and pass their exams. Also Rhys can't decide if he wants to punch August with his fist or mouth.</p><p>(The feeling's mutual.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New beginnings, nude erections

**Author's Note:**

> The August/Rhys frat au nobody asked for. Title from google translate + me mangling Descartes, sorry not sorry.
> 
> ty @ledgem for encouragement and beta :')

“Minions, peasants, peons! Welcome to Helios Hyperion, and congratulations on your good taste.”

“Did he just seriously call us—” Vaughn whispers.

“Shh! He’s still talking!” Rhys hisses back, elbowing Vaughn back into silence when Vaughn opens his mouth to continue. He ignores Vaughn’s affronted expression and focuses on the speaker in front.

The president of the Helios Hyperion frat flings his arms wide, gesticulating wildly as he continues. “My name’s Jack, but you can all call me Handsome Jack, because I’m handsome, and I’m the president of Helios Hyperion, and that means you all gotta do what I say.”

Behind Jack, an intimidating looking woman painting her nails while lounging in an armchair rolls her eyes. “Get on with it already so we can get to the good stuff.”

“Nisha, babe! You’re harshing my vibe!” Jack turns to glare at her before facing the pledges again. “Okay, okay, fine, I’ll cut to the good stuff. Okay, so, minions. You’ve all probably heard of the Pandorans, right?”

“Is this a trick question?” The pledge on the other side of Vaughn mutters, and Rhys finds himself nodding in agreement. The rivalry between the Pandora Sanctorum and Helios Hyperion frats is almost legendary, held up by a long-standing tradition of competing against each other in practically every school sport and competition available. And some sports and competitions not sanctioned by the school.

Jack snorts, and continues. “Right, of course you have. Hard not to, when news of their barbaric _stupidity_ gets passed around daily, lowering our collective IQ points with every breath they take. Ugh. My point _being_ , as our new pledges, you guys get to carry on the great traditional prank war between _us_ , and those loser nerd babies.” He points at each and every one of the pledges in turn, and Rhys holds his breath so hard he nearly passes out as Jack’s finger gets to him. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it, and by that I mean you don't really have a choice because I'm your boss and I say so, is to prank the ever-loving crap out of them. Make me proud, kiddos.”

Jack pauses, and an irritated look flashes across his face. “Right, okay, nothing too deadly, _wink nudge_ , but no seriously, if you’re gonna do anything dumb, I’m not gonna stop you, but at least make sure it can’t be traced back to us, we’ve got a reputation to maintain and all that crap, capiche?”

Nisha coughs, and when Jack turns to her, says pointedly, “Gortys?”

“Oh! Right, Gortys.” Jack spins back to face the pledges, and makes a circle in the air with his hands. “Our school mascot, about yay-big, likes to scoot around school talking to anything that looks like it’ll talk back. Seriously. One time I found her talking to a tree.” He pauses, frowning, and shrugs. “Anyway, all the frats and sororities compete to see who can keep possession of her till the end of the semester, and _naturally_ Hyperion’s been winning for the past three years now. If any of you buttmunchers make us break our streak, you’re out of the frat, no exceptions.”

A couple of seats away, a pledge with an incredibly smarmy smile and way too much hair gel raises his hand and says, “I heard the school’s cracking down on pranks though, how sanctioned is this prank war exactly?”

Rhys frowns. His instincts scream that anybody with a smile that greasy looking would probably have the dumbest ideas for pranks, and going by the way the pledge is asking Handsome Jack all sorts of questions, Rhys’ instincts are completely right. Edging slightly away from the pledge, he turns to Vaughn, and raises an eyebrow.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, bro?” He whispers, nudging Vaughn.

“Aw hell yeah. You and me, burgers, some quality bro-time thinking of some quality pranks?”

Grinning, Rhys raises his fist, and Vaughn returns the fist-bump with a grin of his own.

When he turns back to the front of the room, Jack’s rolling his eyes and saying something in an incredibly acerbic tone, and Rhys is struck all over again by how _cool_ Handsome Jack is.

Man, picking Hyperion was clearly an excellent choice.

“—okay, you know what? Babe, help me deal with loser mcchickenface over here,” Jack says, turning to Nisha and waving a dismissive hand at the smarmy pledge, who looks a little cowed, but clearly not cowed enough to back down.

“Nope.” Nisha pops the p, and holds one hand out to examine her freshly painted nails. “Last time I helped, Brick kidnapped my baby for an entire week. You’re not getting any help from me this time.”

Vaughn leans in close, and hisses in Rhys’ ear. “Her _baby_?! An actual baby?”

Before Rhys can shrug his own confusion back, Jack’s voice comes, loud and clear from across the room.

“No offense, Nisha, but if you’re not gonna use it in the bedroom, than what even is the point of that whip of yours?!” Jack says, then yelps when Nisha reaches over, takes hold of the whip, and cracks it right next to his face without even looking up from her study of her nails.

“Alright, alright, jeez.” Jack turns back to the pledges, a sour look on his face. “You, with all the dumb questions. You can chicken out of the pranks if you like, I’ll just put you as first on the list to be booted next round of pledging.”

“I- uh.” The pledge in question fumbles, before scowling and crossing his arms. “I never said I wouldn’t do them.”

“Good, good. Okay.” Jack pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, and reads from it. “Pranks, check. Gortys, check. Blabla something about housing arrangements and administrative bullcrap, _boring_. Alright, you’re all dismissed.” Jack waves carelessly at them, before turning to kneel next to Nisha’s chair, where they begin a hushed and possibly very sexual discussion, going by the way Nisha’s grinning at Jack, and the lewd hand gestures they’re both making.

Rhys would totally be lying if he said he wasn’t curious, and a little turned on. Okay, a lot. Curious, that is. Not turned on.

“Oh my god bro, he’s not _that_ cool,” Vaughn mutters.

“Yes he—I wasn’t thinking that!” Rhys splutters indignantly, grabbing Vaughn by the shoulders and propelling him out of the room before anybody overhears.

“Uhhuh. Sure. I believe you.” Vaughn twists easily out of Rhys’ grasp, and makes a judgey face at him. “Man, I wonder what that administrative and housing stuff was about. Sounded important.”

Rhys shrugs, pushing down his own concern. “I’m sure we’ll get details in the newsletter…or something.”

“Right.” Vaughn takes off his glasses, and wipes them with his shirt nervously. “God, I hope you’re right about Hyperion being a good frat.”

“Bro, trust me. From here on out, everything’s gonna be peaches and cream.”

“Uhhuh.”

“Sunshine and daisies.”

“…Oh god.”

“Unicorns and hotdogs.”

“ _Stop_.”

\---

Rhys’ first class is at a cruelly early time. 9am is…okay, it’s not that bad, relatively speaking. And by relatively speaking, Rhys means his 7am lab on Thursday. Also, Vaughn’s three 8am sessions for his introductory classes.

But on a Monday, after spending the summer lazing around with Vaughn and waking up no earlier than noon, 9am seems really, really cruel.

So it’s probably a good thing the first week is all introductions and stuff. That way, Rhys can nod his way through the professor’s droning and not worry about missing out on too much.

At least, that _was_ the plan.

Ten minutes into class, he’s got his head folded in his arms, and is half-dozing off to dreams of dinner, when the sudden flurry of activity around him makes him start to attention, confused.

Looking around, he realizes that people are pairing off, moving around the half-empty lecture hall and exchanging greetings. At the very front of the lecture hall, there’s an explanation on the massive screen: instructions to pair up for the first group project of the semester.

Aw, crud.

Looking around some more, he realizes that sitting in a secluded corner at the back might have been a good idea when he was planning to sleep, but was now very definitely a _bad_ idea. The seats in his vicinity are all empty, save for one a couple of rows down.

“Psst, hey, you over there!” Rhys calls out to the person, who spins around in their seat to face Rhys. It turns out to be a girl, with startlingly pale blue eyes. “You got a partner yet?”

“No, _please_ tell me you’re looking for one too. I don’t know anybody else here,” she says, giving him a panicked look that probably mirrors the one on Rhys’ own face.

“Oh thank god,” Rhys says fervently, and picks his stuff up to move to where she’s sitting. “Hi, I’m Rhys.”

“Angel. Nice to meet you,” she replies, sticking out a hand for him to shake.

Rhys reaches his right hand out and takes her hand, shaking it and dropping it as soon as he can within the bounds of politeness. Not everybody takes too well to his prosthetics, he’s found.

To his relief, however, Angel doesn’t stare or anything, just glances down at his hand before turning back to face the front of the room. She tucks her hair behind her ear, a movement that looks both casual and somehow _not_ , and Rhys can’t help but watch. Then he sees a metallic glimmer peeking out from beneath dark hair, and gets it.

More than a little relieved, he turns his attention back to the professor, who’s gathered all those still unpaired to the front of the class.

“Yikes, I’m glad we don’t have to go down and get paired off by the professor,” he says, peering down at them.

Angel laughs. “Oh man, that could’ve so easily been us.”

Sitting back in his seat, Rhys nods along with no small amount of relief.

They watch the professor start pairing people off in only mildly awkward silence, and Rhys is seriously contemplating taking another nap, when a gentle nudge from Angel catches his attention.

“Hey,” Angel says. When Rhys turns to face her, he’s a little bit taken aback by the serious, intent expression on her face as she watches him. “Okay, this might sound really weird, but I’m going to be straightforward with you, alright? I know this class is just an introductory one, but…I _really_ want to do well in it, for all my classes actually, so. Um. If you want to slack off and stuff, that’s totally fine, I’ll cover for you, just let me know in advance, alright?”

Rhys blinks, stunned.

“Sorry, I—I know this is sudden, but I just wanted to get things out in the open.” Angel winces. “If you uh, wanna switch partners, I completely understand.”

“No!” Rhys blurts out. “No no, I’m good, I mean, same! Me too, I really wanna do well, so I’m definitely gonna pull my own weight. Just—wow, you’re really intense, aren’t you?”

Angel flushes, looking down at her notebook and fiddling nervously at it. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to imply you wouldn’t pull your weight. It’s just, my older brothers keep telling me horror stories about groupwork, and I really can’t afford to not do well, you know?”

Snickering, Rhys shakes his head. “Nah don’t worry, I know sleeping in the very first class of the semester doesn’t really give a very good impression, sorry about that. Also, I got the same horror stories from my parents. And the same warnings about not doing drugs and keeping my grades up that I’m gonna guess you got as well.”

“Oh god, definitely.” Angel laughs, then pauses, frowning. “Okay, maybe not so much the drugs thing. One of my brothers is, uh…recreational. To say the least.”

Before Rhys can ask a question (he has so _many_ ), the professor finishes up with pairing off the people, and starts class proper.

\---

Class ends up being less introductions, more jumping right into things, and Rhys is honestly thankful for his luck in pairing up with Angel. She’s focused and quiet during the lecture, and takes notes faster than Rhys thought humanly possible. Also, Rhys might or might not be in love with her handwriting, which is ridiculously neat for the speed at which she writes.

“Hey, do you have any classes after this?” Rhys asks, after class is over. “My bro and I are gonna go check out the east side of campus, see if there’s any decent food places there. He’s been craving burgers for a couple days now, but we still haven’t found a decent place.”

“Oh! There’s nothing nice there, trust me. But I do know where to go for really good burgers, if you want? It’s a little out of the way, but it’s really good, I promise.” Angel scrunches up her nose. “Hopefully there’s nobody there, but it should be fine. I hope. Do you mind if my friend joins us, by the way? I promised I’d eat lunch with her.”

“Yeah definitely! The more the merrier,” Rhys cheers, digging around in his pocket to get his phone and call Vaughn.

Not long later, the four of them find themselves squished around a dinky little round table in an old fashioned, but fastidiously clean diner, elbowing each other for space as they eat the _best fucking burgers ever_. 

Okay, so Rhys exaggerates things sometimes, but this time, there’s no way he can exaggerate just how good these burgers are. They’re so good, he never wants to not have his mouth on one. The buns are perfectly toasted, and biting through their crispy exterior to get to the tender and flavourful meat in the middle feels like how he thinks ascending onto a higher plane of existence might be like.

“Ohhh god, this is amazing,” he says, holding the (tragically small) remains of his burger aloft and gazing up at it with tears, actual tears in his eyes.

“You’ve said that like, three times already. But! You speak the truth, my noodly friend.” Angel’s friend replies, her mouth full of half-chewed burger.

“Gaige, you did the exact same thing the first time I brought you here.” Angel points out, waiting to chew and swallow before she speaks.

“I did say he spoke the truth!” Gaige replies indignantly.

“Uhhuh.” Angel grins, eyes scrunching up as she steals one of Gaige’s fries, popping it into her mouth with an exaggerated munching sound.

“Shock! Betrayal! Angel, how could you!” Gaige shrieks, dropping her burger to grab Angel in a headlock.

Next to Rhys, Vaughn finishes his burger and sets the wrapper down with a content sigh. Then he burps, long and loud enough that Angel and Gaige separate to stare at him. Vaughn covers his mouth in embarrassment, but when everyone starts laughing, he flushes and drops the hand, scowling at them. “What! The burger was good, okay.”

“Yeah, how did you even find this place?” Rhys asks through a mouthful of delicious, delicious goodness, then swallows and repeats himself when his question is met with confused looks from the rest.

Angel shrugs, and steals another fry, from Rhys’ plate this time.

“Angel!” Rhys yelps, crowding his plate in towards his chest in an attempt to protect it.

To his horror, he finds himself promptly betrayed by his now _ex_ -best friend.

Vaughn sneaks a hand under Rhys’ armpit, grabs a handful and hands it out to Angel and Gaige, who applaud obligingly as Vaughn bows in his seat.

“Bro! Why!” Rhys whines, but he relinquishes his fries, watching sadly as Gaige and Vaughn exchange a high-five with Rhys’ (stolen!!) fries.

“The Bunker’s owned by Angel’s asshole brother,” Gaige says through a mouthful of her ill-gotten fries. “He’s a real jerkface mcbutt, but he knows what he’s doing, you gotta admit that. First thing he did when he took over was to get proper chefs in, kick all the rats out, that kinda stuff.”

“Wait, what?” Vaughn blurts out, frowning. “Your _brother_?”

Angel groans, and slumps onto the table, pressing her face into her hands. “Gaige, remember how I was gonna try and pretend I wasn’t related to him?”

“Oh. Right, sorry, I forgot.” Gaige says, looking chastened.

“No, no, it’s okay. It was bound to come out somehow.” Angel mumbles, taking a fry and munching it morosely. “I _was_ hoping to last more than a day though. Okay, so one of my brothers bought out the shares to the place a couple years back, in an attempt to impress a girl. It’s actually doing really well now, which is really annoying, but not surprising, because he’s a control freak business genius who’s allergic to failure or something. I swear though, the burgers must have additives in them, because even the prospect of accidentally meeting him here isn’t enough to stop me coming back.”

“No, yeah, I can see that.” Rhys takes another bite of his burger. “So, an asshole older brother, huh? That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.” Angel shrugs. “It’s okay though, he usually never comes by in person.”

“Yeah, says its too plebian for him,” Gaige snorts. “What a buncha crap. He just makes them deliver it to him because he’s a complete, freakin’ _asshole_!”

Her voice gets louder and louder in volume towards the end, and she punctuates it by slamming the table with her prosthetic hand. Rhys winces. Mostly because that sounded really bad for the hydraulics, but also because Gaige…Gaige is _loud_.

Then the main doors to The Bunker slam open, and a familiar voice comes in, carried loud and clear over the sounds of people eating.

“Okay, nobody freak out that your boss is here, I just want a freaking burger, stat! Somebody get on that, or you’re all fired,” Handsome Jack calls out as he saunters into the place, followed by a large, silent, and very intimidating dude who looks vaguely familiar.

“Holy shit.” Vaughn mouths, craning his neck to watch the way the waiters scramble to attend to Jack.

“Aw, crud.” Angel hisses. “Gaige, hide me!”

“Angel, babe! Finally come to your big bro’s restaurant, huh?” Jack, holy-shit-Angel’s- _brother_ -Jack, spots them, and makes his way over. “Long time no see, baby sis. Didn’t see your pledge for Hyperion in the stack, but it’s all good, it’s all cool, I’ll get it alllll fixed up for you. Man, am I glad you’re finally in college, it’s been _so_ boring with only Timmy around, you have no idea. How’s settling in going? Anybody giving you a hard time? Remember, kiddo, if anybody dares to look at you wrong, just give your ol’ big brother a shout, and I’ll make sure they never set foot in school again eh?”

Jack pauses in his monologue to glare around the table. Rhys shrinks back, intimidated despite himself. He can’t tell if he’s relieved or disappointed that Jack recognizes neither him nor Vaughn, who’s gone as white as a sheet, and is clutching his burger-wrapper with tense fingers.

Gaige doesn't seem impressed though; she glares right back at Jack, and crosses her arms. Taken aback, Jack raises an eyebrow, and squints at her.

“Hey kid, you look kinda familiar, you in one of my classes or something?” Jack asks.

Gaige opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, a nervous-looking waiter comes up with a bag in hand.

“Sir, your burger?”

“Aw hey, you guys are getting better at this fast service thing!” Jack grabs the bag of food out of the waiter’s hand, and tosses it at his massive shadow. “Not bad, not bad, I might just _not_ fire you all after all. C’mon, Wilhelm, let’s bounce. I’ll keep an eye out for your pledge, Angel! See you around school, sweetheart.”

With that, he disappears as suddenly as he appeared, in a whirlwind of cologne, and the entire diner seems to sigh in relief.

In fact, the waiter that handed Jack his food _does_ sigh in relief before heading back to the kitchen, shaking his head.

“Well.” Vaughn says into the stunned silence that lies over their table. “So, uh. Handsome Jack is your brother, huh?”

“I am _so_ sorry you had to witness that,” Angel says miserably, eyes downcast as she picks at her fries. “He normally doesn’t drop by here, so I thought it was safe but…”

“No, no it’s okay!” Rhys hastens to assure her. “It’s just—holy shit, he’s the president of the Hyperion frat! That’s what Vaughn and I pledged for!”

“Ew, why.” Gaige wrinkles her nose at Vaughn and Rhys, even as she’s placing an arm around Angel and pulling her in for a sideways hug, which Angel leans into with a sigh. “You saw the way he treats everybody, didn't even let Angel get in a word! He didn’t recognize you guys, and I’m pretty damned sure you all met him in person while pledging, right?”

Rhys shrugs uncomfortably, while beside him Vaughn does the same.

“Yeah, not surprised to be honest. I’ve been going over to their house since Angel and I were kids, and he still doesn’t recognize me.” Gaige scowls, and slams the table with the hand not currently around Angel’s shoulders. Thankfully, it’s the flesh hand this time.

“Hyperion’s a really good frat for making connections though,” Vaughn mumbles, although he’s looking less and less convinced by the minute.

“Nah, it’s true.” Angel sits up, a disconsolate frown on her face. “My brother’s a jerk, but he _is_ good at what he does. Unfortunately, for the world.”

“Wait, does this mean we’ll be seeing you around Hyperion?” Rhys perks up.

“No, I…” A determined look crosses Angel’s face, and she folds her arms, looking around the table. “I’m going to pledge for Pandora.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Rhys and Vaughn start spluttering simultaneously.

Gaige, on the other hand, whoops loudly, a massive, eager grin on her face, and grabs Angel’s shoulders. “Angel! That’s _awesome_ , oh man oh man oh man, your brother’s gonna be so mad! Both of them! Wait, what about your parents though? She’s got a whole family legacy thing going on, they’re really big on that.” That last part is directed at Rhys and Vaughn, who are still spluttering.

“I dunno,” Angel admits. “They kinda threw up a huge fuss when Tim said he didn’t want to join any frat. But whatever, they can kiss my…yeah okay I can’t say that.” She winces.

“Oh my god.” Rhys finally manages to stop spluttering long enough to say. “I can’t believe you’re gonna pledge for Pandora even though your brother’s _Handsome Jack_.”

“Nah, I’m pledging for Pandora _because_ my brother’s Jack.” Angel grins. “Don’t worry though, I’m not going to hold your bad taste against you.”

“How magnanimous,” Vaughn says drily.

Rhys props his chin up with his fist, and smirks at Angel. “Alright, and in return, we promise not to prank you _too_ hard.”

Angel laughs, and nudges Gaige. “Hey, you’re on my side, right?”

“Yeah babe, of course!” Gaige pulls Angel in close and plants a smacking kiss on her temple. “I mean, you know I’m not gonna join any frat because _fuck the system_ , but! I totes got your back.”

“Thanks, Gaige.” Angel turns back to Rhys and Vaughn, a wicked smile on her face. “You guys sure you wanna take us on? You should probably know, Gaige once made my brother cry before. Well, not Jack. His twin, Timothy. You’ll probably see him around in the frat, he got bludgeoned into joining, poor thing.”

Rhys opens his mouth to declare his fearlessness, but he gets distracted by Vaughn’s nudging him anxiously.

“Rhys, bro, a word?” Vaughn hisses.

Confused, Rhys lets Vaughn tug him away from the table and into a whispered conference.

“Rhys, think about it. Do we really want to prank _Handsome Jack’s sister_?! Also, I’ve only eaten lunch with her so far, but already I’m mildly terrified of Gaige. I’m just saying, she looks like she could fuck our shit up, real bad, you know what I’m saying?” The words tumble out of Vaughn’s mouth, one over the other. “Maybe we should, I dunno, make an alliance with them. Be strategic and stuff, you know? Get insider info on what pranks Pandora’s doing, that kinda thing…”

“Huh.” Rhys considers it. Okay, so Jack is _definitely_ not going to be happy about his little sister joining Pandora, going by the way Angel talks about him, and his general reputation. Put that way, it kinda does seem like a colossally bad idea to take the prank war to her. And then Gaige…

Rhys looks back at the table, where Angel and Gaige are watching them with identical, shark-like grins. Gaige even goes so far as to draw one metal finger across her throat and stick her tongue out at Rhys.

Um.

“Okay, yep, definitely change of plans.” Rhys turns back to Vaughn, trying and failing to keep the wince off his face.

“Thought you might agree,” Vaughn says, voice very dry but Rhys can totally see the terror in his eyes, so.

They head back to the table, and Rhys puts on his best bargaining face.

“Okay, how about a truce, just between us. You don't prank us, and we’ll spare you our pranks,” Rhys says, faking as much confidence as he can. Which is a lot. Being as weedy as he is kinda gives you lots of practice in faking confidence. Especially in high school.

God, he’s glad that’s over and done with.

“I dunno, doesn’t sound like there’s much in it for either of us,” Gaige says, stealing one of Rhys’ fries to chew obnoxiously.

“Uh.” Rhys flounders, looking to Vaughn for help.

“Insider information!” Vaughn blurts out.

“Right!” Rhys clutches on to it like a lifeline. “We’ll give you a heads up if any Hyperion pledges are gonna prank you, and in return, you do the same for us.”

Unfortunately, neither Angel nor Gaige look particularly convinced. Racking his brains, Rhys recalls Angel’s intensity in class, and jumps on it.

“Okay, think about it this way. Pranks would be a time consuming distraction from classes, right? And Pandora would probably shit their pants to have Handsome Jack’s sister; they wouldn’t even care if you did pranks or not!” Encouraged by Angel’s slow, considering nod, he goes on. “So you joining Pandora would annoy your brother enough without you having to lift a finger, and with our information, you can avoid getting pranked, save all your energy for focusing in class! It’s win-win-win, really.”

He crosses his fingers beneath the table, and hopes really hard.

In front of him, Angel actually seems to be considering it, while Gaige gives Rhys the side-eye and mouths, “You chicken!” at him.

Well. She’s not wrong.

To his relief though, Angel eventually slams her hand on the table decisively, and reaches forward to take Rhys’ hand.

“Buddy, you’ve got a deal,” she says.

Rhys shakes her hand, kicking Vaughn under the table when he sighs too obviously in relief.

“You know, I wasn’t actually going to prank you, right?” Angel says, letting go of Rhys’ hand and grinning at him. “Thanks for volunteering to give me insider information on your fellow pledges though.”

At Rhys and Vaughn’s dismayed looks, she laughs, and high fives Gaige.

“Bro, I think we might have made a tactical error,” Vaughn says.

“We’re doomed.”

“Yep.”

\---

It turns out that Angel is majoring in computer science, like Rhys, which is super awesome in all sorts of ways. Rhys has always been a kind of distracted student, but sitting beside somebody he knows helps him keep on track during lectures, and so when he finds out Angel shares not just one, but _three_ whole classes with Rhys, he mentally gives himself a high five. Then gives Angel one.

“Yo Angel, gimme a high five.” Rhys holds his hand up.

To his delight, she doesn't ask questions, just high fives him with her right hand without even looking away from where she’s taking notes.

Oh yeah, another thing awesome about Angel? She’s also a lefty, which means they don't have to worry about knocking elbows in the cramped quarters of the lecture hall’s seats. Like Rhys said, _awesome_.

“Focus, Rhys.”

“Right, yep.” Rhys turns back to taking down notes on about modular programming. “We still on for burgers at lunch?”

“Yeah! God I can taste the fries already,” Angel sighs.

“Mm.”

“ _Focus_ , Rhys.”

“Okay, okay!”

After class, Rhys and Angel part ways to go for their separate classes with a wave and an agreement to meet up with Vaughn and Gaige at the Bunker.

An hour later, after his biology class, Rhys makes his way over to the Bunker, which is in a really out-of-the-way location, behind this huge, empty field. Rhys had asked Angel why the strange location, but changed the topic at her pained expression. Still, his curiosity drives him to wonder furiously about the possible reasons as he trudges along the path that skirts the field to the Bunker’s building.

When he gets there, he finds his friends easily, Gaige’s bright hair and laughter as recognizable as Vaughn’s familiar profile.

“Sup, _homies_.” Rhys slides into the seat next to Vaughn, and strikes a pose, ignoring Gaige’s snort and Vaughn’s eyeroll. “Where’s Angel?”

“Oh, she’s gonna be late, said something about…” Gaige checks her phone. “Oh yeah, she’s bringing some friends from her psych class.”

“How long is she gonna take? I’m hungry.” Vaughn whines, and slumps against Rhys dramatically.

Lucky for Vaughn, it doesn't take long before Angel arrives, just in time to break up an intense argument between Vaughn and Gaige about the proper way to slice a sandwich.

Vaughn’s on team-diagonals, Gaige is on team-halvesies. Her word, not Rhys’.

“Hey guys, this is Sasha and August, from my psych class. Rhys, Vaughn, Gaige,” Angel says, pointing to them in turn.

“Hey.” Rhys waves back at them. “Angel, I can’t believe you got tired of Vaughn and me already, wow, _hurtful_.”

“What can I say? You need to step up your entertainment game, Rhys.” Angel pats him on the shoulder as she sits down.

“Hah, very funny, I’ll have you know I’m an excellent entertainer. Right, Vaughn?” Rhys turns to him expectantly.

“Um.”

“Bro!”

“Okay, okay, you’re the best entertainer.” Vaughn sighs, and covers his face.

Rhys’ triumphant fistpump is interrupted by a snort coming from the other side of the table.

“What, what was that for?” He says indignantly, glaring at—August, Angel had called him. Man, what an ironic name for someone who looks so scruffy and disreputable. 

August raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “Didn’t say nothing,” he says. “Hey Angel, you said there were good burgers here?”

Scowling, Rhys subsides, but only because he’s really hungry, and burgers sound awesome right now.

They make their orders, and settle down around the booth, falling into introductions and chit-chat with only a mild amount of awkwardness. Then Gaige makes a fart joke, and Sasha laughs so hard she snorts, and everybody eases up a little, falls into easy conversation as they continue waiting for their food.

“So, you and Angel are in computer science, huh?” Sasha turns to him, eyes crinkling up at the corner as she smiles, friendly and warm.

“Yeah, that’s how we met, actually.” Rhys waves a hand between them uncertainly. “You’re…in her psych class?”

“She’s my roommate, actually! That would be how we met. But yeah, we’re in psych 101 together; I’m majoring in it, and August and Angel are doing it as a minor, so we’re all stuck in the same class.” Sasha makes a face. “I hope we get to the actual teaching soon, our lecturer spent the entire first lesson introducing himself and the books he’s written.”

“And the conferences he’s headed,” August adds, making a disdainful noise, low in the back of his throat as he fidgets with the coasters on the table.

“Sounds fun,” Rhys says, trying to be as casual as possible. “So…August, right? What are you majoring in?”

“Econ.” August grunts, without even looking up to make eye contact. Which is kind of rude, but mostly Rhys is caught on the econ part.

“Wait, _economics_? You?” He blurts out, without thinking.

Bad idea.

August scowls, and makes eye contact for the first time. He has nice eyes, Rhys notes, sometime between the feelings of “oh crap” and “shit shit shit I’m gonna get punched in the face”. A surprisingly pretty shade of blue, and Rhys says surprisingly, because everything else on August’s…everything looks like he would rip your face off if you told him he had pretty eyes.

“What, you gotta problem with that?” August glares at Rhys, eyebrows contracting together rather impressively.

“No! No, nothing,” Rhys says hastily. It seems to work, August’s hackles settle a little, and then Rhys goes and mucks it up by sticking his foot in his mouth. “I just thought econ majors would, I dunno, dress more…formal?”

In Rhys’ defense, he’s distracted, okay?

“You trying to say I’m not dressed good enough?” August snarls, slamming his hands on the table as he stands up abruptly. “I’m not the one tucking my tie into my pants, _nerd_.”

Indignant, Rhys stands up too, only to realize with no small amount of irritation that August is at least as tall as he is. “Excuse you, there’s nothing wrong with my tie!”

“Yeah? Think you might need a pair of glasses like your little friend over—”

“The food’s here!” Angel breaks in, glaring them both into sitting back down as the waiter comes over with a food-laden tray.

“No no, don’t stop them, I wanna see how this plays out,” Gaige looks between Rhys and August with fascination.

“Ten bucks says Rhys gets knocked out in one punch.” Sasha helps the waiter unload the contents of the tray onto their table, shrugging easily at Rhys’ betrayed glare. “Sorry Rhys, I’ve seen August in his fair share of fights, and you…don’t really look like you’ve been in any.”

“Done.” Vaughn says immediately, and Rhys feels an overwhelming wave of fondness for his bro. “Wait, if we’re both betting on Rhys to get knocked out, who pays who?”

Okay, scratch that fondness. No fondness, nope.

Vaughn snickers, and then holds Rhys’ burger out to him in placation. “Just kidding, bro. C’mon, lets just enjoy our amazing burgers, okay?”

Angel gives Vaughn a beatific smile. “Yes, _thank you_ , Vaughn. Come on, guys, save the fighting for after we eat. Or better yet! No fighting. That sounds like a good plan.”

Rhys tears the wrapper off his burger, and takes an angry bite out of it, glaring at August all the while. Fortunately for him, having tried the burgers before meant that he’s somewhat prepared for how good they’d taste, so when August takes his own angry bite, only to go nearly cross-eyed at the taste, Rhys gets to laugh at him.

Or rather, smirk through his own mouthful, because laughing would take too much energy away from his enjoyment of the burger. Which is a lot. Because the burger is, quite possibly, even better than he’d remembered. Damn, maybe there really _are_ additives in this thing.

The meal is tense, but civil, with mostly Angel, Gaige, and Sasha talking. After the first few minutes, Rhys pretends like August isn’t there – easy, just try not to look at the hot guy, real simple, super doable – and starts joining the conversation. To his relief, August seems content to just eat and glare around a lot, which makes it easier to pretend he doesn’t exist.

“Alright, I’ve gotta run to my next class, I’ll see you guys around!” Gaige leaves first, stealing fries from Angel as she goes.

There’s a chorus of goodbyes that goes around the table as Gaige leaves, and then Sasha’s stretching and picking up her bag. “Alright, I’m gonna head back first, freshen up before the meeting. Angel, you coming with?”

“Oh! Right, I’d almost forgot about it.” Angel frowns. “Do we really need to wear red headbands for it?”

Sasha laughs, “Nah, Maya’s just pulling your leg with that.”

“Wait, meeting?” Rhys asks.

“Oh, right. Remember how I said I was joining Pandora…?” Angel tucks her hair behind her ear nervously.

“No. Way.” Vaughn breathes.

“Yeah, all three of us are in the Pandoran frat, why?” Sasha looks at Rhys and Vaughn curiously.

“Um.” Angel winces.

“Aw, they’re in Hyperion!” August blurts out, giving Rhys an incredibly dirty look. “Should’ve known from Mr. Prissypants over there.”

“Wait, is this a big deal?” Sasha raises her eyebrows. “Nobody actually cares about the frat rivalry, right?”

“No, it’s not going to be a big deal, _right_?” Angel says emphatically, looking between Rhys and Vaughn and August.

Vaughn raises his hands up. “Yeah, no, nope, don’t worry, I’m cool.”

Rhys raises his chin at August challengingly. “Sorry Angel, our truce still holds, but I’m going to do my frat proud in the prank war, not on you, but on _other_ members of your frat.”

“Bring it, Hyperion.” August sneers, looking Rhys up and down with a dismissive curl of his lips.

“Oh I’ll _bring it_ alright.” Rhys picks his bag up, and stands to leave. “I’ll bring it so hard you won’t even know what’s coming, watch me! Come on Vaughn, we’ve got pranks to plan.”

Ignoring Angel’s exasperated expression and Sasha’s giggle, he turns to Vaughn, and starts chivvying him out of the booth.

“Burgers again next week?” Vaughn says as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

“Yep. Good luck with pranks planning.” Angel says wryly, waving to them as they leave.

“Bye Vaughn! Bye Rhys!” Sasha calls out, laughter in her voice.

Predictably, August doesn’t say anything throughout Rhys and Vaughn’s (very dignified) exit, but Rhys feels his gaze nonetheless, heavy on the back of Rhys’ neck. Resisting the urge to shiver, Rhys stalks out of the Bunker and down the long road back to the main campus.

“Bro, are you sure about this?” Vaughn catches up with him, slightly out of breath.

Rhys slows his steps down, but keeps walking.

“Vaughn, you saw how annoying that guy was. He insulted you! And me! And Hyperion!” Rhys scowls all over again at the reminder.

“Well, yeah, but you did kinda insult him first.” Vaughn points out, really unhelpfully.

“Pranks, bro! Think of the pranks!”

“Uhhuh. You sure this isn’t just because he called you a nerd?” Vaughn goes forward, and turns around to face Rhys while walking backwards.

“Pranks!!”

“…Alright then.” Vaughn turns away, but not before Rhys catches the amused look on his face.

“Watch me, bro. I’m gonna prank August so hard, they’ll speak of my exploits for years. Years, I tell you!”

“Uhhuh.”

“Years!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up next: pranks! ice cream sacrilege! obligatory campus coffee shop!
> 
> ps should i be tagging for background pairings or nah???


	2. Nothing is sacred, everything is prankable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u @ledgem for helping me with this *hearteyes @ u*

The thing about being a computer science major is that there’s always the inevitable joke about “Oh, so you’re learning how to hack and stuff?” Which gets old pretty fast, especially when your best friend starts bringing every digital item he has to you and asking you to “work your hacker magic, Rhys!”

Seriously, the next time Vaughn brings his headphones over to Rhys and asks him to “hack it so it plays my music better, bro” Rhys is going to _strangle_ him with his goddamn headphones.

That being said, the most annoying thing though, is that Rhys actually _does_ know his way around security systems, so its not like those jokes are inaccurate. They’re just _really_ annoying. So when Rhys cracks his way into the school’s intranet portal, he makes sure to do it when Vaughn isn’t around to make “leet hacking” jokes.

It turns out that August _is_ in economics after all, and is actually staying in the same building that Vaughn and Rhys are in, albeit three floors above, and somehow in a double room but without a roommate. Rhys spends the afternoon after his declaration alternating between clicking listlessly through August’s intranet account (he already has an assignment due next Monday, hah _sucker_ ) and searching for prank inspirations online.

He’s not having much luck, because everything seems either really malicious or just really banal (Stinkbombs? Really?) and otherwise uninspired. So when Angel texts the group to say that she got a table at the library, and that they’re free to join her if they wish, he stuffs his laptop and papers into his bag, and heads off to join her.

He follows Angel’s texted directions through the sprawling library, and finds her at a table on the fourth floor, overlooking the central hub.

“Hey,” he whispers, setting his laptop and books out and sliding into the seat opposite her.

“Hi Rhys,” Angel looks up from her papers long enough to give him a quick grin before going back to reading. “Your other half joining us?”

“Yep! He says his statistics professor is taking forever to go through the slides so he might be late, but he’ll drop by. Gaige?”

Angel shakes her head. “She gets antsy in quiet places, says it makes her want to rip her teeth out. Might join us for dinner though. You done with the readings for Tassiter’s class yet?” She taps at a stack of papers. “You can borrow mine if you don’t want to print out another copy.”

“Angel, you are the light of my life,” Rhys says, completely serious.

“Don’t let Vaughn hear you say that, he might get jealous.” Angel replies, but she’s smiling, so Rhys takes it as a win.

They settle into their readings, the hush of the library punctuated intermittently by other students walking by, the sound of pens scratching on paper, and the occasional sniffle or cough echoing around.

Twenty minutes into doing the silence, Rhys comes to the conclusion that maybe Gaige was right about quiet places. Standing up, he indicates to Angel that he’s going to take a break, walk around a bit. She waves him off, before turning back to her notes. Marveling at her fortitude, Rhys wanders off to explore the library.

Explore is definitely the word for it, as the library is _huge_ , spanning seven floors, with each floor larger than his entire high school library. Rhys pokes around through the shelves on the fourth floor, unwilling to wander too far off. He picks out two books on computational geometry that look interesting, and another one on discrete structures that he thinks Angel might be interested in, and heads back.

When he rounds the corner however, he’s stopped short by an unexpected presence at their table.

“What are _you_ doing here?!” Rhys scowls, putting his collected books down so he can fold his arms and glare at August, who’s sitting in Rhys’ seat, the _bastard_ , and drinking from a cup of coffee that actually smells pretty heavenly right now.

“Dropping by to say hi to my _friend_ ,” August replies, standing up and returning Rhys’ glare. “But now that you’re here, I’m feeling the urge to go throw up a little, so I’m gonna leave. Bye Angel, see you on Thursday.”

August picks up his coffee, and pushes Rhys’ chair back in pointedly before walking off with one last wave to Angel.

Rhys pulls his chair out and seats himself, muttering unflattering things under his breath about August’s hair, face, piercings, and general existence. Across the table, Angel rolls her eyes, and kicks Rhys gently.

“You’re both being very mature,” she says. “Acting like real grown-ups here.”

“He’s the immature one!” Rhys fumes. “Why was he even here anyway?”

Angel points out over the railing next to their table, to a table on the other side of the hollow center of the library. “He came here to finish some work, and saw me, so he dropped by to say hi.”

Rhys peers over the railing. It doesn’t take him long to spot August sauntering back to his seat, hands in his pockets and stupidly pointy blond head recognizable even over the distance. He continues to watch as August sits down at his own table, and bends down over some papers. Probably the assignment due on Monday, hah.

Settling back into his seat, Rhys goes back to work, but the presence of August is an annoying tickle at the edges of his concentration, and he finds it hard to focus on the slides for next week’s lecture. Glancing over to check that Angel’s busy (she’s flipping through the books Rhys bought with an interested hum), he opens up his browser, and begins looking for pranks instead.

The lingering smell of coffee from August’s visit makes something twitch at the back of Rhys’ mind, and he frowns, trying to think of why coffee is important. Then it hits him.

“Be right back, Angel! Text me if August leaves, okay?” He whispers, before grabbing his phone and ignoring her confused expression to brisk walk his way out of the library. When he gets past the library doors, he makes a run for it, and sprints back to his dorm as quickly as he can.

Half an hour later, he’s back, with a bag in his hand, and fingers crossed that August is still there.

To his relief, when he makes his way back to Angel and peeks over the railing, August is still there at his table, bent over his books and with a fresh cup of coffee. Perfect.

“Do I wanna know?” Angel’s voice is very dry, and when Rhys looks over, she’s placed her papers flat on the desk to give him an incredibly skeptical look.

“Nope.” Rhys waggles his eyebrows. “Hyperion secret. August hasn’t left his table or anything yet, right?”

“Oh my god, is this—you’re going to prank him, aren’t you?” Angel covers her eyes and sighs. “Rhys, please, we’re in the _library_.”

“Nothing is sacred when it comes to pranks, Angel. Don’t worry, it’s not anything too bad.” Rhys opens the bag up, and pulls out a coffee cup identical to the ones August has been drinking from, but with a spill attached. “Just gonna give him a minor heart attack, no biggie.”

“Is that—” Angel reaches forwards, and picks the cup up. “Oh come on, really? A fake coffee spill?”

Rhys shushes her, and takes the cup back protectively. “Don’t insult my baby! Oh, oh look, my favorite bit.” He turns the cup around, and shows her the underside of the spill, where there’s a bright yellow sun sticker.

“Of course, a Hyperion sticker to rub it all in.” Angel flicks the sticker with one finger, and gives Rhys a supremely unimpressed look.

“Exactly.” Rhys glances over to check on August. “Okay, that’s his second cup now, and if he hasn’t gone to pee recently, he should be going soon. I’m just gonna go ahead and…do my readings…while facing the railing. Don’t mind me.”

Angel rolls her eyes, but Rhys is too busy vibrating in his seat in anticipation to make a face back at her. In his defense, he _does_ try to do some of his readings, but glancing up every minute to make sure he doesn’t miss August’s departure makes it really hard to concentrate. So it comes as a relief when, approximately twenty minutes later, he looks up from where he’s absolutely not absorbing any information to see August stretching and standing up from his seat. Rhys waits till he sees August heading down the stairs towards the toilets, and then springs up from his seat, grabbing the fake coffee spill as he goes, ignoring Angel’s exaggerated sigh behind him.

He makes his way down, prank in hand, only to be faced with a conundrum. August’s laptop sits on the table, a tempting prospect, but right next to it there’s several pages of cramped, but surprisingly neat handwriting that look to be August’s almost completed assignment. Rhys waffles between the two for a minute or two before urgency makes the decision for him. He carefully places his fake coffee spill on August’s essay, and takes August’s half-full cup of coffee with him when he goes.

Back at his own table, Angel greets him with a raised eyebrow, and a silent slow clapping of her hands.

“Hah, you laugh now, but I bet you August’s reaction is gonna be awesome. Ooh, d’you think he’ll scream, god I hope he screams and gets kicked out.” Rhys resists the urge to rub his hands together like a movie villain, and instead goes to the railing to watch.

August comes back soon after, with wet patches on his shirt (what kind of loser doesn't dry his hands properly?) and a nonchalant expression that fades into a frown as he nears his table. Then he gets near enough to see, and the frown blanches, turns into something angry and horrified at the same time.

“What the _fuck_?!”

It echoes around the library, and Rhys freezes in his seat, gleeful and terrified at the same time. Across the table, Angel has her face in her hands, and is shaking her head slowly.

When Rhys peeks over, he’s just in time to catch the dawning realization on August’s face as he picks up the cup, and the entire coffee spill comes up with it. Then he looks around, and makes eye contact with Rhys, and the force of his glare almost makes Rhys regret everything. Almost.

Instead, Rhys grins back, and gives him two thumbs up. In return, August slams the cup on the table, crushing it, and smirks at Rhys’ horrified gasp.

“My baby! Angel, he crushed my baby!” Rhys hisses, glaring at August.

“Uhhuh.”

Rhys makes a threatening gesture across the railing, only to be met with one much more threatening from August. Then August starts stalking towards the staircase, and Rhys realizes that he may or may not have miscalculated.

“Oh crap, he’s heading over here.”

Rhys stands up, completely ready to hide in the shelves, only to watch in relief and triumph as August is stopped in his tracks by the forbidding crossed arms and bespectacled glare of the head librarian. Cackling to himself, he watches as August gathers up his things, and is escorted out of the library. When August turns back to give Rhys one last glare, Rhys raises August’s coffee cup, and gives him a toast.

The furious scowl that August gives him, incandescent with impotent rage, is totally worth the smack up the head that Angel gives him.

Totally worth it.

\---

“Rhys, did you order ice cream from somewhere?”

Rhys looks up from his laptop, and pulls his pen out of his mouth. “Um…don’t think so, why?”

Vaughn closes the door to their room, and walks over to Rhys’ bed to hand him a box. “Has your name on it.”

Rhys opens the box, and liberates the ice cream carton from the dry ice in the box. “Ooh, cherry!”

Vaughn makes a face, and flops back onto his bed. “That shit tastes like cough syrup, man. You’re _weird_.”

“Okay, but I definitely didn’t order any ice cream recently.” Rhys pauses, and thinks it over. “Unless I had a mad craving in the middle of the night, ordered it, and then fell asleep and forgot about it…?”

Vaughn lifts his head enough to grimace at Rhys. “You know, I would say that’s impossible, but…it’s you.”

“Thanks, bro, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Rhys shrugs away the mysterious origins of the ice cream, and goes to hunt down a spoon. He definitely doesn’t remember ordering the ice cream, but that's his name and room number on it, so it must be his, right? Spoon in hand, he goes to sit back on his bed, legs crossed beneath him and attention back to the snippet of code he has to turn in for this week. Scooping up a huge spoonful of cherry goodness, he brings it to his mouth.

“Aw, fuck!” He spits the mouthful out into his hand, spluttering. “Who puts— _August_.”

“Huh?” Vaughn pops up, glasses askew and a confused expression on his face. “Where?”

“This isn’t ice cream! It’s frozen mashed potato, eurgh.” Rhys holds up the ice cream carton to examine it.

“Oh, is this August getting you back for the coffee spill?” Vaughn snickers. “That was a good one, bro.”

“Thanks, I know.” Rhys grins at the memory. “Okay, but ice cream! What kind of monster would mess with _ice cream_?” He turns mournfully to Vaughn, holding the carton out for him to look at.

“Absolutely terrible,” Vaughn says, with a very straight face, not even bothering to look at the crime scene in Rhys’ hands. “What a tragedy.”

“Ice cream is sacred, okay! And, okay, how did he even know this was my favorite flavor? Unless— _no_.” Rhys stands up and looms over Vaughn’s bed, horrified at the possibility churning in his brain.

“What? Oh. _Oh_. Oh my god, that’s why Sasha was asking me about our favorite ice cream flavors the other day!” The dawning realization on Vaughn’s face comes as a huge relief to Rhys. “Oh god, sorry bro. She told me it was a survey thing for her psych class!”

“I feel like we should address your weakness when it comes to pretty girls at some point, but for now, we _definitely_ need to get revenge on August.” Rhys glares down at his carton of fucking mashed potatoes. “I can’t believe he touched the ice cream!”

\---

The next day, after a frat meeting where Handsome Jack congratulates Rhys on starting the prank war off to a really good start (he shook Rhys’ hand! Rhys is never gonna wash his hand _ever again_ ), Rhys and Vaughn spend their afternoon in the common area of the frat house planning out their next few pranks with the other new pledges. To their dismay, the smarmy pledge from the first meeting is still there, and he vetoes and puts down every single idea the pledges suggest with an authority that he very definitely does not have.

“Okay, Vasquez, you’ve had lots of things to say about everybody’s ideas, how about you come up with one for once?” Rhys eventually says, exasperated.

“I’m just providing some constructive feedback, _Rhys_.” Something about the way Vasquez says Rhys’ name makes Rhys’ hackles rise. Maybe it’s got something to do with the way he rolls it in his mouth like he’s tasting something really buttery. Or maybe it's the expression he has, obnoxious and smarmy at the same time. _Or_ maybe it’s because Vasquez has said Rhys’ name so many times today while putting all of Rhys’ ideas down.

Scowling, Rhys stands up, shoving his chair back. “I’m going to the kitchen,” he says, and stalks off, ignoring Vasquez’s smug sniggering behind his back.

When he gets to the kitchen, Gortys is already there, bumping up against the counters futilely.

“Need a hand?” Rhys asks, picking her up so she can grab a cup off the countertop.

“Oh, thank you Rhys!” Gortys chirps, her upper half spinning around to face him, eyes crinkled in a smile. The cup she’s holding bangs against his arm, and Rhys looks down at it, confused.

“What’re you doing with the cup?” Rhys moves to set her down gently, only to be stopped by her hand tapping his shoulder.

“I was going to make a drink! You sounded like you needed one,” she adds, directing him over to the sink, where she pours Rhys a glass of water from the tap, and spins back around to hand it to him.

“Oh, uh.” Rhys carefully juggles Gortys into the crook of one arm, and takes the cup from her. “Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you?”

“You’re welcome!” Gortys says happily, and leans in close to Rhys’ ear so she can whisper at a really loud volume. “Ignore that guy, he’s a real bummer.”

Snickering, Rhys bends down to let Gortys tip out of his arm and onto the floor, where she lands with a gentle clunk. “That he is, Gortys. That he is.”

He watches her zip off to rejoin the group of pledges around the dining table, feeling the frustration from having to deal with Vasquez let up a little. Gortys is cute, way cuter than any robot has the right to be, and incessantly cheerful. Honestly, Rhys is more than a little amazed at how she’s managed to stay so upbeat while living in the frat house, because the place is really massive and cool, but also really full of smelly underwear and fart jokes. Also actual farts, there is definitely no shortage of those.

Making sure Gortys isn’t looking in his direction, he goes to pour out the tap water and rinses the cup out. While he’s at the sink, he takes the time to splash some water on his face, and take a deep breath to steel himself for more Vasquez. If he could, he would totally just leave now and go on with his one-man-prankathon, but Vaughn’s still at the table, and there’s no way he’s gonna leave his bro to deal with that alone.

Sighing, he wipes his face dry, and heads back out of the kitchen. As he nears the dining room, the doorbell rings, and he detours to answer it.

“Donut delivery for the Hyperion frat?” The deliveryman intones, not bothering to look up as he shoves a box of donuts into Rhys’ arms, and then holds out a paper. “Sign, please.”

Leaning against the doorjamb to balance the donut box on his knee, Rhys signs the paper, and hands it back to the deliveryman.

“Thanks, man. Enjoy your donuts, y’all.” The deliveryman laughs, a short and vaguely familiar sounding laugh, before resettling the cap on his head, and heading back down the path.

“Wait, do I know you?” Rhys calls out after him, frowning slightly.

“Naw, man!” The deliveryman shouts back, before disappearing around the corner.

Shrugging off the vague sense of familiarity, Rhys heads back into the house. “Yo, who ordered donuts for the frat?” He sets the box down on the dining table, and opens it to the cheers of the pledges.

Nobody answers his question, but Rhys figures that's because everybody’s too busy grabbing at the sweet sugary goodness, and grabs one for himself. The sudden torrent of squawking and disgusted cries hits him, but not before he’s already taken a huge bite of the donut in his hands.

“Who the fuck puts mayo in donuts?!” Vaughn chokes out, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he wipes at it frantically, donut dropped heedlessly onto the table.

“Oh my god the _calories_!” One of the other pledges whimpers, face screwed up in disgust.

Distracted by the disaster going on in their mouths and the overlapping accusations and shouts of disgust, they’re taken completely by surprise when a screaming horde bursts in through the front door and slams the doors to the dining room shut, trapping them inside.

Rhys, closest to the exit, runs to it, only to come face to face with August, who’s grinning at him menacingly through the glass of the door.

“Oh my god I’m going to _kill_ you!” Rhys yells, banging his left fist against the door, right next to August’s face.

“Gotta get to me first, loser!” August sneers back, waving at Rhys mockingly while keeping the door closed with his body.

The other pledges swarm to Rhys’ help, all pressing him against the door in their attempt to push it open. Unfortunately, all that results in is Rhys getting squashed up painfully against the glass.

Cackling at his plight, August turns around and yells, “Yo Scooter, come over here for a sec!”

The deliveryman from earlier comes over, cap pushed back to reveal a disarmingly cheerful and really fucking familiar face.

“What up, August?” Scooter says. Then he spots Rhys, pressed up against the door, and grins. “Heey, lookit you all squashed and stuff. Thanks for answering the door earlier!”

“Yeah yeah, flirt later,” August grumbles, and pulls out his phone from his pocket. “Help me hold the door shut, I wanna take a photo of this dumbass’s face.”

“No, no don't you dare, _August no_.” Rhys snarls, trying desperately to push back against the bodies pressing him into the door, all of whom are shouting threats at the Pandorans and completely ignoring Rhys as they surge forwards. “Vasquez, get off me already!” He pushes back with all his strength, to no avail, and watches in helpless dismay as Scooter turns so he’s facing the camera too, and holds up a thumbs up, right next to Rhys’ face.

“Say cheese!” August crows, and takes the photo, the _asshole_.

“Pandora! Pandora! Pandora!” The horde of fucking _bandits_ whoops as they begin to file out of the house, triumphantly carrying Gortys with them.

Before Rhys can say anything however, August and Scooter bolt for the front door after their comrades, and the door they’re holding shut slams open, spilling the Hyperion pledges out in a noisy jumbled pile of limbs, Rhys right at the bottom.

When the pledges finally get themselves extricated from each other (not without a lot of elbows in unfortunate areas), the Pandorans are long gone, leaving them to look around the toilet paper and confetti covered living room in dismay.

“Oh my god Jack’s gonna kill us,” a pledge whimpers.

“This is all Rhys’ fault! He brought the donuts in, and got us all _compromised_!” Vasquez spins around, and points an accusing finger at Rhys.

Rhys splutters, but before he can defend himself, Vaughn cuts in, which is probably good, because Rhys…doesn’t have a defense right now.

“We can decide where to lay the blame later, for now, we _really_ need to get this place cleaned up before the rest come back.” Vaughn glares around until everybody’s nodding, and then starts directing people to various tasks, which everybody gets to with clear relief.

\---

“Rhys, are you sure this is a good idea?” Vaughn asks uneasily, watching with his arms holding his knees to his chest from his bed as Rhys saws with his scissors at a black sock.

“I have to do _something_ ,” Rhys replies, twisting the scissors to try and find that magical spot where it will actually cut instead of just folding the cloth. “You heard Vasquez earlier, that asshole isn’t gonna do anything because he’s too chicken, but he’s gonna blame me for all the pranks that come our way.”

He pauses, and looks up at Vaughn. “I don't get it bro, why’d he even join Hyperion if he didn't want to get pranked?”

Vaughn shrugs, and adjusts his glasses. “Okay, but if you get killed by August, I have dibs on your laptop, right?”

“Bro, you have dibs on my everything. Except my textbooks, Angel has dibs on those.” Rhys pulls the sock over his head, and adjusts it until he can see Vaughn through the newly cut eyeholes. “How do I look?”

Vaughn snorts. “Very anonymous. Good job. You should uh. Probably change your clothing though.” He gestures at Rhys’ body.

Rhys looks down at the bright yellow Hyperion sweater he’s wearing. “Right, good point. Thanks, buddy.”

Ten minutes later, dressed all in black and feeling very much like a cat burglar in the uncomfortably tight black jeans he’d had to borrow from Angel, Rhys stands outside of August’s door, takes a deep breath, and knocks.

“Who’s there?” August’s gruff voice comes muffled through the door. Rhys doesn’t answer, because he hears footsteps coming. He waits till he hears the door clicking open, pulls the zip tie tight, and tosses the aerosol spray can of Wam Bam Island Breeze in just as August opens the door. He doesn’t have time to take in the sight of August shirtless and sleep-ruffled, before he sprints away, back to the staircase, cackling madly as the enraged yelling starts up behind him.

\---

Rhys’ phone vibrates while he’s in class, eliciting annoyed glares from his classmates. Okay, by classmates, he means Angel.

“Sorry!” He whispers, pulling out his phone to check it. It’s from an unknown number, which makes him frown, but he dismisses it as nothing important, and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

Only to have to pull it out again not a minute later when it vibrates. And then vibrates again. And again.

Wincing as the professor pauses in his lecturing to look around in befuddlement, Rhys switches his phone to completely silent mode, and puts it back in his pocket.

After class, he pulls it out again to check, only to boggle at the notification of _six hundred and forty eight_ messages.

“What the…” He mutters, unlocking his phone and flicking through message after message screaming at him that—

“Who the hell is Bustin Jieber?” He asks Angel, who’s done packing her bag already, and is texting someone angrily.

“Who?” Angel looks up, the angry glare on her face melting into confusion.

“I keep getting these messages about tickets to a Bustin Jieber concert.” Rhys holds his phone out for her to see, and sighs when it vibrates again. “Is that another message about the tickets, because I swear to god…”

“I think it's a singer?” Angel says, eyebrows raised. “Why would you be getting messages about tickets to a concert for a singer you don’t even know though?”

Rhys frowns, and on a hunch, goes to search for his phone number online.

“Oh my g—I’m gonna kill August,” Rhys hisses. “Somebody put up a poster with my number on it, saying I’m giving away free tickets to this Bustin Jieber’s concert, it _has_ to be August, ugh.”

Angel laughs, and claps him on the shoulder. “So the prank war’s going pretty hard now, huh?”

“Said with all the amusement of someone who’s just having fun on the sidelines.” Rhys gives her a long-suffering look, which she returns with a wink.

“Aren’t you glad Gaige and I aren’t joining in? Things could be so much worse, Rhys. Just keep that in mind.” Angel’s phone beeps, and her frown returns as she goes back to looking at it. “Okay, I don't think I’m gonna be able to join you guys for lunch today. My brother wants me to join him and Nisha for lunch.”

“You need us to come with you for backup?” Rhys asks, concerned.

“It’s okay, say hi to the rest for me?” Angel shrugs off her frown, and grins weakly at Rhys. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s cool. Text us if you need backup, yeah?” Rhys watches her go off with a frown of his own.

When he reaches their usual booth in the Bunker, he slides in next to Vaughn, and flings his phone onto the table.

“Somebody help me kill August, _please_ ,” he says, dropping his hands into his arms.

Vaughn, already halfway into his burger, pats Rhys absently on the shoulder before going back to demolishing his food.

“What’s that?” Gaige picks Rhys’ phone up, and flicks through the (now 1893) messages. “Whoa, Rhys, I didn’t know you were a fan of the Jiebs. Ew, can we still be friends?”

“It’s not me!” Rhys whines into his arms, before sitting up to glare at his phone. “August gave my number out, the _asshole_. I don’t even know who this Bustin person is!”

Gaige cackles, and shoves his phone back at him. “Good luck, Rhysie boy. Having fun with the prank war yet?”

Scowling, Rhys goes to order his food, planning his revenge in his head.

\---

Later that night, Rhys signs August’s email up for all the sex toy websites he can think of, along with several others Gaige suggested.

Some of Gaige’s suggestions, he bookmarked.

(Okay, all of them.)

\---

The next frat meeting goes as well as could be expected. Vasquez gets called out for not having done a single prank, which brings cheer to Rhys’ cold dead heart, and Vaughn gets singled out for his dyeing Mordecai’s hair pink, to standing ovation. Everybody’s a little on edge because Gortys has been in Pandoran hands for a week now, but Athena apparently has a twin in Pandora, some guy named Axton, and she vows to get the location of Gortys out from her twin in Pandora by the end of the week.

Then, as they’re heading out, there comes a blood-curdling scream from the street.

“My _baby_!” Vasquez howls, practically hopping in rage as everybody rushes out. In front of him, the sleek black car that he’s obnoxiously proud of sits in its usual place, only now it’s covered entirely in post-its. Post-its the exact shade of Pandoran red.

Rhys snorts, he can’t help it, and to his delight, he’s not the only one amused. The other Hyperion members are snickering or hiding smiles behind polite hands.

“Looks like you’re part of the prank war now, buddy.” Rhys says, grinning through his teeth at Vasquez, who glares at him in return.

Later that day, Rhys and Vaughn meet up for their usual Saturday dinner with Angel, Gaige, Sasha, and August.

“Hey Angel, Sasha.” Rhys turns deliberately away from August, who’s chewing his sushi with his mouth open at Rhys because he’s a _heathen_. “D’you know who in your frat messed up Vasquez’s car? I wanna buy them a drink, but Vaughn and me were talking it over and trying to figure out who it was, only Vasquez hasn’t actually done any pranks yet, so—”

“Wait, you mean that wasn’t _your_ car?” August interrupts him, breaking their rule of no talking directly to each other.

“Huh? No, I don’t have a…wait.” Rhys narrows his eyes at August, then realization strikes him.

“I thought it was your car!” August scowls at Sasha and Gaige, who are laughing openly at him. “Stop laughing! It’s an easy mistake to make, the dumb car’s as flashy and tasteless as this dweeb over here.”

“Ooh no you didn’t,” Vaughn sucks in a breath, and turns between August and Rhys with a fascinated expression.

“Flashy? _Tasteless_?!” Rhys stands up, and slams his hands on the table.

Sneering, August stands up too, and crosses his arms, leaning forwards intimidatingly. “What, you gonna strangle me with that dumbass tie of yours? Or kick me with your sparkly little shoes?”

“Ooh, kinky,” Gaige stage whispers.

Ignoring her, Rhys glances down at his shoes, and looks back up to glare at August. “My shoes are not—oh it is _on_!” He moves to get his hands around August’s neck, egged on by Gaige and Vaughn’s cheers, but is stopped by Sasha’s voice.

“Hey Rhys, didn’t you say you wanted to buy August a drink?”

When Rhys glances down, Sasha’s casually playing with her straw, but at Rhys’ confused look, she grins wickedly.

“You did say you wanted to buy a drink for whoever got Vasquez’s car, right?”

“Yeah, but—I’m not buying August a drink!” Rhys squawks indignantly.

Laughing, August sits back down, leaning back in his chair and smirking up at Rhys. “I think I’d like the most expensive drink there is on the menu, thanks.”

“Who’s being tasteless now?” Rhys snaps back, scowling.

“You, because you’re rescinding on your drink offer.” August drawls.

“Fine!” Rhys crawls over Vaughn’s knees to get out of the booth. “But only because I’m a man of my word! And also because Vasquez totally cried as he picked the post-its off.”

When he returns, Vaughn and the rest minus August applaud. Bowing, he sets the giant glass in his hands down on the table in front of August.

“The most expensive drink, as requested,” he says, as sarcastically as he can.

“What the ever-loving crap is _this_?” August looks actually befuddled, and Rhys does a fistpump.

Squeezing back in over Vaughn’s legs, Rhys says, “I asked the guy at the counter for the most expensive drink, like you said.”

When August narrows his eyes at him, Rhys rolls his own eyes, and mutters. “Okay, so I might have asked if I could combine a bunch of drinks.”

August waves a hand at the glass of grey-brown muck. “That doesn’t explain whatever this monstrosity is.”

“Okay, I don’t actually remember what I requested, but there’s uhh, chocolate syrup, hot sauce, strawberry milkshake, cola, and I _think_ beer. Or some kinda alcohol.” Rhys shrugs, and gives August a gleeful grin. “Enjoy!”

“Okay, you know what, as long as you didn’t spit in it or anything, I’m sure it’ll taste _delicious_. Like victory and rainbows.” August grabs the glass challengingly.

The grin drops off Rhys’ face, and he scowls at August. “You _wish_ you could taste my spit. And who even thinks of doing something like that?!”

“Jeez, get a room,” Vaughn mutters, and when Rhys turns to him, betrayed, he shrugs and continues. “What? I’m sensing a lot of tension here, is all.”

“The only tension here is the one holding up Mr. Prissypants’ hair!” August declares, before he starts drinking the drink. Like, actually chugging it down.

“Oh my god—”

“August that’s _disgusting_ —”

“Yeah, chug ‘em boyo!”

“Go! Go! Go! Go!”

August finishes the entire thing in one shot, and slams the empty glass down onto the table triumphantly, grinning viciously at Rhys as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. It’s unsettling to have August’s stupidly blue eyes looking at him like that, and Rhys scowls back.

“I hope you enjoy your stomachache, assbutt!” Rhys says, moving to grab his bag and head off. “C’mon Angel, we’ve got class to be _really early for_.”

“Oh trust me, I _will_.” August calls out after them.

“I hate him so much,” Rhys whines as he and Angel are trudging down the long road back to the main school buildings.

“Uhhuh.” Angel, busy tapping on her phone, doesn’t even bother to look up.

“Seriously, I can’t believe he thought Vasquez’s car was mine, what the hell?”

Angel laughs suddenly, and when Rhys turns to her, eyebrows raised, she says, “Check your phone.”

Rhys does so, only to whoop in triumph at the picture Gaige sent to the group chat. It’s a selfie she took of herself, with August bent over a toilet bowl in the background, middle finger thrown up at the camera.

“Wait a minute, did she follow him to the men’s room?”

“You surprised?”

“Nope.”

\---

The next day, Rhys’ screaming brings Vaughn stumbling, bleary-eyed and still wearing his retainers, to their shared bathroom.

“Did you get murdered?” Vaughn asks, the end of his question vanishing into a jaw-cracking yawn.

“My shampoo!” Rhys charges out of the shower, water and soapsuds dripping everywhere, and brandishes his shampoo bottle at Vaughn.

“Huh?”

“My shampoo!”

Vaughn opens the bottle, and takes one sniff before choking. “Licorice, ew, why?”

“My _shampoo_ ,” Rhys says through gritted teeth.

“You okay, bro?” Vaughn says apprehensively, taking one step back and looking Rhys up and down.

“First the ice cream, and now the _hair_.” Rhys spins to Vaughn, well aware that his eyes are kinda bugging out right now but really not giving a shit. “This little shit is going _down_.”

“Riiiight.” Vaughn takes another step back. “You uh, want to maybe finish showering first? Put on some clothes? That’s a lot more you than I ever expected to see, bro.”

Rhys stops in his tracks, and glances down before letting out an incoherent snarl of rage, and turns back to head into the bathroom.

\---

“Okay, according to Gaige, he just went into class. We have an hour and a half on the outside.” Rhys sets a timer on his phone. “I’m going to give us fifty minutes, so we have time to establish alibies.”

“Uhhuh.”

“I’m thinking, we can meet up with Sasha at the Bunker, she said she was going to go do some work there during the off-peak hours. Which is now. Because it’s off-peak.”

“Right.”

“Did I print enough of Jack’s face? God, maybe I should go back down and print a few more.”

“Okay, done!” Vaughn stands up, and opens August’s door, making a ta-dah gesture into August’s room.

“Oh my god, finally.” Rhys ushers him in, and closes the door behind them.

Vaughn puts his lock picks away, rolling his eyes as he does so. “Things would’ve gone a lot faster, if there hadn’t been _somebody_ nattering in my ear while I was trying to work.”

“Shh, okay, help me stick these in his textbooks.” Rhys hands Vaughn a pile.

“Tell me again why we’re putting Handsome Jack’s face all over August’s room?” Vaughn picks a cutout up, and makes a face at it.

“Because he’s our glorious leader.” Rhys unfolds the giant cutout he’d prepared specially for August’s bed, and goes to slide it under the messy blankets all over August’s unmade bed. “And also because he apparently finds Jack’s face creepy. Yet another reason why I hate this dude, he clearly has _terrible_ taste.”

“Right, and this has nothing to do with your obsession over Handsome Jack.” Vaughn scrounges up a ball of blutack and starts sticking Jack’s face onto the walls.

“Nope.”

“So help me bro, if I find out you kept even one of these cutouts to stick next to your bed…” Vaughn mutters, but Rhys chooses to ignore him in favor of placing more cutouts into August’s closet.

It doesn’t take long before they finish using up Rhys’ not inconsiderable stack of cutouts, and then they stand back to take in the fruits of their labor.

August’s room is much like theirs, except where there should be a second bed and table, there’s instead a pull out couch, which now has Handsome Jack’s face sticking out in between the cushions. Rhys spins around slowly, taking in the many faces of Jack sticking out (and stuck on) everywhere, and hums in satisfaction.

“Can we go now? This is beginning to creep me out.” Vaughn shivers, and rubs his arms.

“If this creeps _you_ out, imagine how much August will freak,” Rhys says, sighing happily at the thought.

\---

Two days later, Rhys and Vaughn walk into their room, and are stopped short by the sight of Roland’s face _everywhere_.

“‘Eat Pandoran shit, Hyperion’” Vaughn picks one up, and reads out the neatly penned words beneath Roland’s face. “Well, at least he sticks with the classics.”

Scowling, Rhys takes the photo from Vaughn, and looks around. “He just printed Roland’s campaign poster a thousand times, what the hell? At least we bothered to choose different photos for different places!”

“No,” Vaughn mutters, “ _you_ chose them.”

Rhys picks up the poster stuck to the wall above his bed, and scowls at it. “He didn’t even bother writing on half of them!”

Behind him, he hears Vaughn sighing explosively. “Rhys, bro, really? Shouldn’t we be more worried about how he managed to get into our room?”

Rhys opens his mouth to reply, but just then, he looks down, and sees the picture of Handsome Jack he’s been keeping pinned to his headboard.

“Oh that _bastard_!”

Vaughn, drawn by Rhys’ outraged gasp, comes over. “Buckteeth and a moustache. Classic, if kinda boring. I gotta say though, the moustache kinda looks good on Jack. Maybe you should bring it up to him.”

“First the ice cream, then the hair, and now _Jack_ ,” Rhys fumes. “Vaughn, the next time you go to the gym I’m going to join you, because I’m gonna train up to _kick his ass_.”

\---

Vaughn looks down at the box in Rhys’ hand. “I don’t know, bro. This seems kinda drastic.”

“These are drastic times, my friend,” Rhys says ominously, and claps Vaughn on the shoulder. “Now help me hold the ladder so I can get the glitter evenly distributed.”

He’s standing on the only mildly wobbly ladder and carefully pouring out the glitter from the box onto each blade of August’s ceiling fan (which is _really_ dusty, so honestly, Rhys is probably doing August a favor here) when Vaughn says, “Oh, Gortys! Where did you come from?”

“Hello Vaughn! And Rhys’ legs!”

Rhys spins around at the familiar voice, and nearly falls off the ladder. Luckily, Vaughn steadies him with a hand on his ass.

“Whoa there, bro. Please don’t drop the glitter on me.” Vaughn helps Rhys down, and takes the box of glitter away pointedly.

“Gortys! What are you doing here? Oh—August kidnapped you, didn’t he?” Rhys bends down, and shakes her hand in greeting.

“He’s been letting me watch all the cartoons I want!” Gortys chirps, and butts up against Vaughn fondly. “I miss the house though, are you guys here to take me back?”

“Yeah, we’re here to rescue you,” Vaughn picks her up with one arm, and shakes the box of glitter in his other hand. “Once Rhys is done with the fan.”

“Is that glitter? Ooh, I _love_ glitter!” Gortys spins around, possibly to indicate her love of glitter, or to indicate where she thinks Rhys should put the glitter, Rhys can’t decide.

“Yeah, no, I’m done with the fan, was just making sure it was all even. Come on, bro, let’s bring Gortys back.”

They head back out, locking August’s door after them, and take turns answering Gortys’ questions on how the house has been doing.

“I’m sure the front door misses you too.”

“Really? Awesome! What about the roof?”

“I uh,” Vaughn glances at Rhys, who shrugs in response. “We haven’t gone to visit the roof, but I’m also pretty sure it misses you too?”

“ _Awesome_.”

“So anyway, where did you say you’ve been for the past few weeks?” Rhys asks to save Vaughn from having to go down a checklist of the various parts of the house.

“In August’s room! And Axton’s room. And Maya’s room.” Gortys runs out of fingers on one hand, and starts on the other. “And Janey’s room. And August’s room again,” she finishes, and grins up at Rhys and Vaughn. “That’s when I found you guys!”

“Oh man, Athena’s gonna be so mad at Axton when she finds out he lied to her,” Vaughn mutters.

“Chyeah,” Rhys snorts. “It’s cool though, we got her back. Man d’you think August will get into trouble when they can’t find Gortys?”

“Oh no, should I go back?” Gortys stops in her tracks, and wheels backwards tentatively. “I don’t want August to get into trouble!”

“Um.” Rhys and Vaughn exchanged a panicked glance.

“No no it’s okay, Gortys. August will be fine, we’ll leave him a note that says he doesn’t have to worry about you because you’re with us.” Vaughn bends down, and holds Gortys’ hands.

“Yeah! A-and we all miss you at the house,” Rhys adds. It’s true, meetings at the frat house have been feeling a little bit too dull without Gortys’ cheerful presence around.

“Okay!” Gortys chirps, and spins back to wheel ahead on the path. Behind her, Rhys and Vaughn have an eye conversation that goes something like this:

“Bro, you nearly screwed up there man!”

“I know!”

When they eventually arrive at the frat house, the door is answered by a familiar face.

“Hey, Rhys and Vaughn right? What are you doing h—oh, Gortys!” Jack bends down, and coos over her, which is…weird. Stunned, Rhys takes a step back.

Gortys bumps up against the weirdly friendly Jack. “Timothy! I missed you!”

Oh. That would be Jack’s reclusive twin, then. Relieved, Rhys relaxes.

Gortys reaches up, and pats Timothy’s face, then wheels past him and into the house.

“Uh…hey?” Rhys waves weakly. “We found Gortys in one of the Pandoran pledges’ room, brought her back here.”

“That’s awesome!” Timothy grins, sweet and genuine, and Rhys’ brain short circuits a little.

“Right, we should…get going.” Beside him, Vaughn clears his throat pointedly, and takes Rhys’ elbow. “See you on Saturday!”

“Bye guys! Thanks again for bringing Gortys back!” Timothy waves them off with another grin, and Vaughn’s tugging at Rhys’ elbow grows more urgent.

Vaughn only lets go when they get safely past the corner on the street, and then he’s nudging Rhys in the side.

“You okay there, Rhys?”

“Who, me? Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” Rhys splutters, mind catching up to where they are.

Vaughn snorts, sounding incredibly unimpressed. “Might want to close your mouth there, bro. I think I saw a fly go in.”

Scowling, Rhys wipes at his mouth, and shoves Vaughn away.

\---

Revelation that Jack’s twin is an _identical_ twin and two new assignments aside, the rest of Rhys’ week goes by suspiciously uneventfully. By the fourth day of no response from August, he’s twitching at every loud sound. At their Saturday dinner, he doesn’t even participate in the group’s rousing argument on whether or not video game anthologies were cheap money making ploys, or legitimate tributes to well-loved games, because he’s too busy glaring at August and mentally demanding why he hasn’t responded yet.

Then on Monday, Vaughn takes pity on him, and suggests that, maybe August doesn’t use his fan, because it’s well into autumn now, and getting way too cold for that.

“ _Bro_. Why didn’t you tell me earlier!”

Vaughn shrugs, a shamelessly unshamed grin on his face. “It was kinda funny watching you twitch every time someone walked past our—augh!” Rhys’ chokehold takes him completely unaware, and for the first time in their friendship, Rhys actually manages to win their impromptu wrestling match.

\---

Careful investigation (badgering Sasha) reveals that August gets his coffee from the local co-op café west of the campus center, really near the library. More investigation (bribing her with chocolate) gets him the knowledge that August always spends his Tuesday mornings there before heading off to his macroeconomics class at noon.

So the next Tuesday, Rhys heads over to the coffee shop as soon as it opens, stakes a seat in what is, according to the mysterious masked barista, August’s favorite spot. He buys way too many coffees while waiting for August to turn up, until the table in front of him has at least four cups, and Zer0 dryly says, “I would recommend a decaffeinated drink for your seventh cup.”

About to shake his head, Rhys realizes that his hands have been drumming constantly against the table for so long that they’ve gone numb, and ends up accepting the proffered chamomile tea with mild embarrassment.

In between watching the street outside for August, he actually manages to get some work done, and makes friends with the barista. Well, one of them anyway. Zer0 is _incredibly_ cool, and indulges Rhys in making increasingly ridiculous latte art, including one with a giraffe that is handed to Rhys with a wink and a pointed glance at Rhys’ legs. Krieg, on the other hand, says not a thing in the three hours Rhys spends in the café. The closest thing he does to talking is to grunt expressively at a blue haired girl with cool tattoos, but then he follows it up with turning bright red and disappearing into the stockroom until she leaves. 

When he finally spots August’s stupid pointy blond head bobbing its way up the path, Rhys bolts out of his seat, sticks the whoopee cushion he’d prepared under the chair cushion, clears the cups off the table, and wipes it clean all before Krieg and his tablecloth even comes near, to Zer0’s amused applause.

August comes in, wearing a blue scarf against the chill of the air over his usual clothes (but still wearing the same stupid fingerless gloves, what even is the point of fingerless gloves?!), and pays for the coffee Krieg’s already prepared for him with the ease of familiar routine. Rhys watches from his vantage point behind a potted plant next to the bathrooms, nearly vibrating in his seat with anticipation, as August heads straight for the seat Rhys just vacated.

The quiet comforting bustle of the café is ripped apart by an ear splitting trumpet of a fart.

In the hush that falls, the only thing that can be heard over the chugging of the coffee machine is August’s panicked spluttering.

“Th-that wasn’t me! I swear—Krieg, bro don’t look at me like that!” August yelps, and Rhys can’t help it, a snort escapes from the hands he’s got covering his mouth as he tries to muffle his laughter.

At the sound, August whirls around, and glares angrily around the shop. His eyes catch on his seat, and he flings the cushion off to reveal the whoopee cushion.

“ _Rhys_!”

Aw crap. Rhys shrinks back behind the potted plant, and crosses his fingers.

“I’m gonna _kill_ you when I get my hands on you, you little piece of shit!” August’s wild eyes land on the potted plant, and he honest to god _snarls_ as he advances on Rhys’ hiding spot.

Rhys turns and flees, ducking through the doors ahead, only to realize that he maybe shouldn’t have run into the bathroom.

Behind him, the door bangs open, and when Rhys spins around, August is right there, picking him up and slamming him against the wall in a way that makes Rhys breathless. Because of the being slammed against the wall part, and not…anything else. 

“Ha ha heey fancy meeting you here?” Rhys tries, forcing a smile out, only to lose it to a gasp when August growls, and tightens his fists into Rhys’ shirt painfully. “Don’t tear my shirt!”

“Give me _one_ good reason why I shouldn’t rip your stupid shirt to pieces, and you after it?” August rumbles, leaning in close.

This close, his eyes are _really_ blue.

“I, uh” Rhys says, distracted by the way August’s nose piercing glints in the harsh light of the bathroom.

“Not in my bathroom.” Zer0 pops out of nowhere to intervene. “Your drink’s getting cold, August. Please let go of Rhys.”

August snarls, but he lets go, and Rhys slides the inch or two down to land on shaky legs.

“This shit ain’t over yet, Hyperion.” August dusts his hands off, and stalks out of the bathroom without a second glance at either Rhys or Zer0.

“That means I won this round, right?” Rhys calls after him, and then winces when Zer0 slaps him up the head. “Right, sorry about that Zer0. But you gotta admit, that was funny!”

Zer0’s head tilts to the side, and hums. “It was amusing. No more taunting my clients, though. I’ll keep the cushion.”

Pouting, Rhys follows Zer0 out of the bathroom, back into the café where things seem to have settled down.

“Okay, I’m gonna head back to sleep, because I woke up _way_ too early for this.” Rhys yawns, and goes over to the seat next to August’s to pick up his bag.

“With all that coffee? I wish you the best of luck.” Zer0 says, voice tinged with amusement as they wave goodbye to Rhys. “Come back again soon.”

“Better keep an eye open while you sleep,” August mutters, glaring sidelong at Rhys.

“Yeah?” Rhys, now fully recovered from being slammed _so rudely_ against the bathroom wall, scowls at August. “Well I’ll make sure to think of you suffering in class while I’m all comfortable in bed!”

At the nonplussed expression that August gives him, Rhys winces.

“Not like that!”

“Uhhuh.”

“You can only _wish_ I would!” Last words gotten in, Rhys grabs his bag and leaves hastily.

\---

It turns out Zer0 was right, and Rhys ends up not being able to sleep until much, much later that night.

Sighing, Rhys turns over in his bed, and listens to Vaughn’s soft snoring in the hopes that it’ll lull him to sleep. Idly, his mind wanders over vague plans for pranks, the costumes he and Vaughn are dressing up in for the upcoming Halloween party, his coding assignment due on Thursday, and wondering whether August is strong enough to hold him up against the wall while fucking.

Wait, what?

Rhys bolts upright in his bed, heart pounding and hands sweaty. Where the hell had that come from?

…Oh, _crap_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up next: halloween!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahaha hi, it's been forever, sorry. i was stuck on this bit for hte longest fucking time rip :'| but the next two chapters are the bits im rly looking forward to writing though so hopefully they'll come faster and will be better written!! thank u for ur patience, friends, your comments really kept me going.
> 
> ps: pls join me in imagining August in [this](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/expendables/images/c/c4/The_Expendables_3_Barney_Ross_poster.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20140402174719) outfit.... the #thirst is real here, friends. (ty lego for the outfit suggestion!!)  
> pps: ty jillus for the rly sweet words.....this chapter is for u ;u;

It’s been three weeks since the whoopee cushion, and Rhys has been on edge ever since, ready for any retaliation August might come up with.

It’s led to no small amount of tensions between him and his friends. Vaughn, for one, grows tired of Rhys’ enforced passwords for their room within three days, because he is _weak_.

“Seriously, Rhys? Are you saying August would dye his hair brown, buy fake glasses, put on a bowtie, and most importantly, _somehow_ shrink himself a foot to pretend to be me? Just to bring you dinner?” Scowling, Vaughn squeezes a hand through the gap in the doorway and slaps at Rhys.

Rhys relents and moves away from where he’s blocking the door to let Vaughn in, but only because Vaughn makes a sensible argument, and not because it would be futile to try and hold up against Vaughn’s stupidly buff arms or anything.

“Bro, we have _got_ to talk about your paranoia at some point,” Vaughn mutters, shoving a box of takeaway into Rhys’ chest and stomping off to his desk with his own food in hand.

“I’m not paranoid!” Rhys protests, accepting the takeaway box and locking the door firmly behind Vaughn. All three locks. It doesn't count as paranoia if August has already proven he can somehow get into their room, right?

…Maybe Vaughn has a point.

“I don’t know why you’re being so uptight anyway, it was just a whoopee cushion, right?” Half-chewed noodles fly out of Vaughn’s mouth as he speaks, and they both watch the noodles fly across the room.

“Nice,” Rhys comments, raising an eyebrow. In response, Vaughn just shrugs and scoops up another forkful of noodles. “And no, it wasn’t just a whoopee cushion! It was his _dignity_ , his _honour_ , and also Zer0 says the first week after August came back he stalked around the coffee shop and checked his seat three times before sitting down. It sounded hilarious. I think I broke him, bro.”

“So…that’s a good thing, right?” Vaughn says, clearly only half paying attention by now.

“No it’s not! Well, I mean, yes, it is, but this just means he’s gonna come after me with something epic, and I gotta stay prepared, Vaughn! Constant vigilance!” Rhys cries out, shaking his chopsticks in the air before attacking his noodles with gusto.

“Uhhuh. Anyway, changing the topic to something not completely ridiculous—”

“ _Rude_.”

“—Sasha says there’s a Halloween party coming up this Sunday, and asked if we’re going. The Hyperion party is on Friday, so I figure we can just reuse our costumes or something if we do go. We still doing Mario and Luigi?”

“Yeah bro, ’course we are.” Rhys sits up, suspicious. “Wait, Sasha invited us? It’s not some Pandoran thing, is it?”

Vaughn groans, and rolls his eyes at Rhys. “I _told_ her you’d get all suspicious. Nah, Lilith’s hosting it, you know, the senior Gaige and Angel both have a massive crush on?”

“Oh right, her.” Rhys thinks it over.

Lilith, despite being the girlfriend of Pandora’s president, is well known for being aggressively unaffiliated. Once, when a school journalist had tried to ask her what it was like to date Roland and if she ever thought about joining his frat, Lilith had thrown her bodily out of a second floor window. That this only led to the interviewer apparently getting a massive stalker crush on Lilith only added to Lilith’s street cred. Honestly, Rhys doesn’t blame the interviewer. Lilith has that kinda cool, badass attitude that Rhys can only envy and feebly attempt to emulate. Plus, her tattoos are _awesome_. Maybe if Rhys goes to the party, he can ask her where she got hers done.

“So?” Vaughn nudges at Rhys’ stomach with a foot. “You wanna go? Even if August is there, I don’t think he’s gonna do anything, not at _Lilith’s_ party. Which means you shouldn’t either, by the way.”

Rhys stabs moodily at a lump of unidentifiable meat. “I wasn’t going to,” he says, but it sounds unconvincing, even to himself. “Fine, let’s go, but I bet you two weeks worth of chores that August tries something.”

“Deal."

\---

The bright orange door at the address Sasha’d given them is flung open by none other than Lilith herself, dressed as some kind of flaming, avenging angel, and Rhys instinctively straightens up beneath her narrowed gaze, picking at one of the straps on his green jumpsuit. She doesn’t seem too impressed by them, going by her arched brow, but before she says anything, Sasha pops up beside her, looking incredibly snazzy in a bowtie and cape.

“Mario and Luigi, really?” She says, eyeing them both. Tiny fangs peek out as she speaks, somehow more adorable than terrifying.

“Vampire, really?” Rhys replies, slinging an arm around Vaughn. “At least we’re cute together.”

She rolls her eyes, and turns to Lilith. “Rhys and Vaughn, nerds extraordinaire. Nerds, this is Lilith, which I’m sure you all knew already.”

“These the Hyperion ones you talked about?” Lilith asks, crossing her arms. Her stare has, if anything, only gotten more unimpressed.

“Yeah, but they’re cool, they promised to let go of their frat vendettas at the door, _didn’t you_?” Sasha glares at them pointedly.

Rhys and Vaughn hasten to assure Lilith of their good intentions. Vaughn even goes so far as to say, “Rhys is the only one who even cares about the dumb prank war, trust me.”

Rhys holds in his indignation with great restraint, but mostly because he _had_ promised Sasha he wouldn’t try anything.

“That so?” Lilith reaches out and smooths out one of the straps on Rhys’ jumpsuit while keeping her eyes locked with his. “Well, I’d say I’ll be keeping an eye on you, but I trust you’re not dumb enough to try anything, yeah?”

Rhys nods dumbly, and she seems satisfied enough, but just as she steps back to let them through, he can’t resist the urge to add, “I won’t try anything as long as August doesn’t.”

Vaughn winces, and Sasha actually sighs and covers her face at that, but Lilith barks out a laugh, and pulls him into the house with her grip on his jumpsuit.

“Fair enough,” she says, and shoves cups filled with something unmistakably alcoholic into his and Vaughn’s hands. “Happy Halloween.” She smirks, and saunters off deeper into the house, her dress trailing what looks like actual sparks behind her.

“That can’t be safe,” Vaughn voices Rhys’ own thoughts, squinting after Lilith’s sparky trail, one hand going up to adjust glasses that aren’t there.

Sasha slings an arm around them both, and starts pulling them after Lilith. “Yeah, but it’s _Lilith_. Who’s gonna stop her? Now c’mon, the party’s already started.”

She frogmarches them on, greeting strangers along the way, until they get to the living room, which turns out to be the source of the loud music and the cheering. The entire place is swarming with people, in various stages of inebriation, and Rhys hurriedly takes a gulp from his neglected cup to try and blend in. It’s some kind of fruity punch, alcoholic and sweet, and with a tingly aftertaste. It’s nice, whatever it is.

“Yo, Sasha!”

Sasha – and therefore both Rhys and Vaughn – turns to face the voice, which turns out to be August, dressed in some sort of all-black ensemble, with a vest and a beret and shades (seriously? They’re _indoors_ ) to complete the look. Sasha’s grip on Rhys and Vaughn loosens, and Rhys rubs at his neck gingerly as he takes in August’s costume. It’s not all that much different from his regular outfit of t-shirt and jeans, but somehow the addition of the vest and the shades makes Rhys…mildly uncomfortable.

“Hey, August! You made it!” Sasha pulls him into a quick hug, and then steps back, giving him a smug smile. “Told you the beret would be easy to find.”

“Yeah, yeah,” August grumbles, one hand going up to adjust his beret self-consciously. His other hand is holding a candied apple on a stick, and Rhys bites back a rude comment about candy and babies.

August turns towards Rhys and Vaughn, and his mouth tilts in what looks like a smile. A very begrudging one, but a smile nonetheless. Which he then follows up with, “I see the nerd is still strong within you two.”

Scowling, Rhys gestures at himself. “Hey, at least we’re recognizable. Who the hell are _you_ supposed to be?”

August splutters, and pulls his shades off to glare at Rhys. “Barney Ross, from The Expendables! Hello?” He gestures at his beret, and then at the vest, indignation.

“The what now?” Vaughn says blankly.

Rhys shrugs. The name actually does sound vaguely familiar, but August’s outrage is entertaining. A small part of him is disappointed by how August pretends like the coffee shop incident didn't happen, but he quashes that part with a firm reminder of how that’s a _good_ thing.

August flings his hands up, rolling his eyes. “God, you’re nerds, how could I forget?”

Rhys puffs up, well-intentioned promises to behave himself flung to the side in the face of this obvious insult, but Sasha steps in, physically moving between August and Rhys.

“Hey, _boys_. No fighting, remember? You wanna do your dick-swinging, you do it somewhere else. Not at Lilith’s party.” She smacks a hand against August’s chest reprovingly. “I thought you said you were gonna play nice today!”

August scowls at nobody in particular, and mutters something Rhys can’t hear.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna get on Lilith’s bad side, dude.” Vaughn shrugs. “Doesn’t seem like a smart thing to do.”

About to answer, Rhys is distracted by the feeling of his fake-moustache unsticking from his face. As he’s pressing it back into place, August steps closer, and holds out the candied apple to Rhys.

“Okay, truce. Here, you look like you eat this kinda sugary crap. Are you gonna take it, or not?” He shakes the candied apple in Rhys’ face pointedly.

“Fine.” Rhys says, as ungraciously as he can, and takes the proffered treat. His stomach grumbles, but the place is thankfully practically booming with music, so he hopes nobody hears. August watches him with bright eyes, and Rhys wonders if he should be suspicious, right up until he bites into the crunchy caramel of the apple, and the overwhelming smell of onion hits him.

“Fuck!” Gagging, he throws the candied _onion_ into August’s cackling face, and follows it up by lunging after him, hands extended to wring his stupid neck.

They go down to the floor together, August’s hands pushing back against Rhys’ shoulders while Rhys struggles to reach his neck. Beneath him, August’s body shakes with laughter as he grins up at Rhys, fending him off with apparent ease.

“Not a big fan of apples?”

“I’m gonna _kill_ you, asshole!” Rhys snarls, and renews his efforts.

It takes Vaughn, Sasha, and a couple of other random strangers to pull Rhys off August, and then Lilith’s there, an irritated expression on her face as she banishes them off to the time-out corner.

Which is how Rhys ends up sitting on the kitchen counter, glaring daggers at August, who glares right back from his position across the kitchen.

“Whoo, talk about UST,” Gaige pipes up from where she’s perched cross-legged on the floor, staring between Rhys and August with undisguised fascination.

“What?” Rhys breaks off his glaring to give her a confused look. “Do I wanna know?”

“Nope!” Gaige scrambles to her feet, the chains of her clothing jangling against the ceramic floor tiles noisily.

Which reminds Rhys of what he’d kept meaning to ask her. “Hey, how come you’re not wearing an outfit anyway? Or are you just—” He gestures at her entire body. “Is your normal outfit a costume, is that what it means? Or, oh. I know, you’re dressed up as…yourself?”

Gaige turns a withering look on him, and Rhys obligingly shuts up.

“No, I’m just not participating in this whole costume shebang because I’m lazy, and besides, Angel wasn’t even coming.” Gaige pouts, one hand coming up to pick at her necklace. “We had a couple outfit planned and all, but then she found out her asshole brother was coming, so now she’s hiding out in her room doing _work_.” Whether her sour expression is targeted at Angel’s brother, or at the concept of work is debatable. Possibly both, knowing Gaige.

“Anyway, come on, now that you guys are here, I can finally get a drink.” She grabs Rhys’ hands, and starts tugging him off the counter. “Lilith put me in here because she kept catching me while I was trying to sneak a cup of punch, and she’s all _No underage drinking in my house_ , like there isn’t a whole bunch of illegal shit going on already. Plus, way to punish me for skipping a few grades, talk about unfair. But you guys are legal, there’s absolutely nothing stopping her from giving you a cup! Which you’ll bring back. To me.”

Rhys wrestles his hands free, a surprisingly difficult enterprise because Gaige’s skinniness is apparently 50% robotic enhancements, and 50% sheer tenacious strength, and plasters his back to the counter before climbing back on. “Uh uh, no way.” He shakes his head for emphasis. “Lilith scares me.”

From across the kitchen, there comes a snort, but Rhys totally saw the way August was cowed by Lilith earlier, so his show of bravado is really not fooling anybody.

“Rhyyyyys come _on_!” Gaige wheedles, and then spins to August when Rhys just keeps shaking his head. “August! My man!”

“Nope.” August fends her off. “Nooope.”

“God you guys are _boring_ ,” Gaige moans, flinging her hands up in frustration. “The worst, 0/10, why am I stuck in here with you old farts?”

“Because you tried to sneak illegal punch,” Rhys says, and relishes the irritated expression she tosses at him. “Besides, I’m only stuck in here for another half an hour before I can leave, unlike you two.”

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in.” Gaige plops down onto the floor, fuming silently, flesh fingers tapping against her metal arm in an irritated cadence. Rhys is tempted to point out how she’s fulfilling the redhead stereotype right now, but he’s not actually that dumb, so. The kitchen falls into silence, other than the muffled sounds of the party around them, and the 

“Okay. New plan.” Gaige perks up. “My engineering professor gave me this exercise to do, I think it might’ve been to get me out of her hair because holy crap on a stick that woman goes _slow_. Like, I’m pretty sure she’s doing it on purpose, god. Anyway, here’s the thing. I’m supposed to design a robot as a special project for extra credit, like I’m not already acing the class, so I’m gonna design a _death robot_.”

She pauses expectantly, watching Rhys and August. Rhys shakes his head in response, half amused and half actually terrified because he wouldn’t put it past Gaige to build an actual death robot. August, however, gives Gaige a dubious look.

“Don’t give me that face! We’ll make a game out of it. We can all design our own robots- it’ll be fun! Besides, it’s not like you guys have anything better to do than glare at each other until Lilith lets you out, right?”

Rhys thinks it over. Well, she has a point. Shrugging, he slides off the counter and joins her on the floor.

“Yes! We have a new contender! Rhys isn’t a boring priss after all!” Gaige cheers, lifting one of Rhys’ hands up like she’s a boxing referee and Rhys just won the round.

“Hey!” Rhys protests, but he’s laughing too.

“Now c’mon, it’s just you left, don’t be _boring_.” Gaige scoots on over to August, sliding her butt over the floor with accompanying jangling from her accessories. In response, August’s scowl just gets bigger.

“Ooh, scary face, very intimidating,” Gaige says, voice mocking as she raises her hands up and shivers theatrically. “Now come on, are you gonna scowl at me all day, or are you gonna join in the game?”

“It’s a stupid game,” August says, stupidly. Because he’s stupid.

Rhys may or may not be biased.

“ _You’re_ a stupid game,” he mutters under his breath, both hoping and not hoping that August hears it.

“Fine, be boring.” Gaige scoots her way back to Rhys, rolling her eyes at August. “C’mon Rhys, let’s go design our murderbots without old sourface over there.”

She reaches into her shirt, and Rhys blinks, taken aback.

“Um.”

Then she pulls out a couple of pens, and holds one out to Rhys.

“I am definitely not touching those pens,” Rhys says, wrinkling his nose. Nothing against bras, but that just seems…unhygienic.

“Oh my _god_ you’re such a prude,” Gaige groans, but she reaches into the pouch at her side, and pulls out a more acceptable pen for Rhys. “Come on, hand me one of those napkins, my murderbot is gonna be named Deathtrap, and he’s gonna _own_ yours.”

They settle down to their napkins, Gaige moving up to sprawl over the kitchen bar, and Rhys making himself comfortable on the floor, leaning against the cupboards. Eventually, August shuffles over, glaring at nothing in particular, and swipes a pen and napkin for himself. Rhys doesn’t really have anything particularly murder-ey in mind, so he doodles a few shapes, makes an illuminati joke with a triangle and an eye, and then actually starts getting into it, adding details and thinking of how he could integrate it to his arm and hand.

Gaige is the first to finish, crowing triumphantly and shaking her napkin in the air before she scrambles to August’s side, and starts bothering him, splaying herself over his back and digging her elbows into his shoulders as she peers at his napkin.

“Is that a gun? _Boring_. Lasers, August my dude. Lasers are the future!”

“Yeah, but lasers take longer to recharge, and they overheat faster. Guns are cooler, literally.” August says gruffly, seemingly oblivious to Gaige’s weight on him. Rhys wonders if he has a younger sibling or something, going by the way August patiently answers Gaige’s questions about his (stupidly named) Loader Bot and adjusts himself to make it easier for her to balance as she shifts around on his back. It’s kinda…cute. If anything August does could be considered cute. So, not cute at all.

Mentally glaring at himself for getting distracted, Rhys turns back to his robot, determined to put August out of his mind. It works, almost too well, because he only realizes that Gaige is talking to him when she waves a hand in front of his face.

“What about you, Rhys?” She slides off August’s back to sit between him and Rhys, making grabby hands at his napkin. “You haven’t shown us your murderbot, c’mon, gimme them goods Rhysie baby!”

Flustered, Rhys slides his napkin over reluctantly. “Okay, I kinda forgot we were on the theme of murder, but…well. Uh. Here’s Dumpey. I’m…not sure what theme I was going with him, to be honest.” He frowns. Maybe he’d gotten a little bit too sidetracked with decorating Dumpy, because the only weapon like thing Dumpy has right now is a little extension that shoots a paralyzing stun shot, because there’s no space in Dumpy for bullets.

Predictably, August makes a stupid, mocking face at Rhys’ robot child.

“What’s that look for, asshole?” Rhys snaps, scowling.

“Nothing! Just- What does it even _do_? Besides stand around and look dumb.” August says, and Rhys hears _Just like it’s owner_ appended to that.

Rhys resists the urge to punch August in his stupid face and takes a deep breath before replying, keeping his tone as even as he can.

“He can paralyze you with an electric shock, and while you lie there, unable to move or talk or do _anything_ , he’ll scream at you, just constant screaming, while he shocks you over and over, never enough to kill you outright, just enough to keep you paralyzed, and all this time he’ll be screaming, until all you can hear is the sounds of eternal damnation ringing through your head as you slowly starve to a cold and lonely death like you deserve.” He takes in a deep breath, and finishes with, “Asshole.”

The kitchen is silent except for the muted thudding of the party’s music, and August just stares at Rhys, wide-eyed. Rhys glares right back.

They stay like that for what feels like a whole minute, until Gaige eventually speaks up.

“…Wow. Chill the fuck out, bro.” She reaches forward, and pats Rhys gingerly on the arm before pushing his napkin back to him, even more gingerly.

On her other side, August is still staring at Rhys, stupidly blue eyes fixed on Rhys’ face, and- is he _blushing_?

Before Rhys can open his mouth to ask what the fuck August is up to, the kitchen door slams open, and Vaughn storms in, wild-eyed and with purple lipstick marks all over his face and neck. His fake-moustache is also gone, weirdly enough.

“Whoa, bro—” Rhys barely gets the words out before Vaughn catches sight of him, and lunges towards him, hands grabbing at Rhys’ arms frantically.

“Rhys, buddy, we gotta _go_!” He yelps, and pulls at Rhys’ arms.

Surprised, but moved by Vaughn’s urgency, Rhys scrambles up, and immediately follows him out, of the kitchen and then the house, Vaughn tossing frantic looks behind them as they go.

Vaughn only seems to relax once they’re back in their room, for a marginal definition of relaxed. He refuses to answer Rhys’ questions, but paces around the tiny floor space between their beds, fingers of one hand pressed to his lips.

“Um…Vaughn, buddy, are you okay?” Rhys watches in trepidation, eyes tracking Vaughn’s nervous movements.

“I’m fine!” Vaughn says, voice squeaking a bit before he clears his throat. He pauses, facing away from Rhys, before saying, slowly. “Rhys…”

“Yeah?” Rhys encourages him along, worried now for his best friend.

“…Nothing.” Vaughn sighs, and turns back to Rhys. There’s a frown on his face, and Rhys is distracted all over again by the purple smears – did Vaughn _hook up with somebody?!_ But he refrains from asking questions for now, saving them for when Vaughn isn’t so obviously distressed.

“You sure, bro? You look kinda stressed, I’m just saying. Wanna talk it out?” At Vaughn’s head-shake, Rhys sits forward, and pats the bed next to him. “Okay, come on. You don’t look up to joining Sasha and the rest for trick-or-treating later, but you _do_ look like a man who’s ready to kick butt at Mario Kart.” He pauses. “Wait, but you play Bowser, is that weird, that you play Bowser while dressed like Mario?”

Vaughn snorts, rolling his eyes, but he relaxes a bit, bumping shoulders against Rhys as he sits down next to him.

“Thanks, bro.” Vaughn says quietly.

“If you really loved me, you’d let me win for once,” Rhys says teasingly, but he bumps Vaughn’s shoulder right back, and settles in to get his ass kicked. He’s willing to wait till Vaughn’s ready to talk about whatever it is, but in the meantime, he’s gonna do whatever he can to help his bro get his mind off things.

And if it helps Rhys get his own mind off the way August’s hands looked in that stupid outfit, and the way he’d stared at Rhys, in the kitchen, stupid blue eyes all wide and-- well, the less he thinks of the entire night, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up next: exams! friend conversations! more pranks! an awkward conversation between two oblivious assholes in uncomfortably small places!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exams, and an awkward meeting in the toilet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should rly be working on schoolwork instead of fic but :'|
> 
> ps, unbeta'ed, bc im terrible and lazy and mostly just want to finish this au asap. lmk if u see typos and shit
> 
> hope u guys like the chapter...sry its kinda rushed lol

The weeks following the Halloween party are a blur, but that’s mostly because of the upcoming exams. Suddenly, the library gets a boom in popularity, and Rhys and Angel have to resort to turning up earlier and earlier to get their usual table, or even a table at all. Most times, they end up walking a round of the library before giving up and heading to The Bunker, where it’s noisier, but they can at least get a table, and nobody chases them out because they’re all terrified of Angel’s brother. Often, Vaughn and Sasha join them, and the four of them end up spending enough time at the table, to the point where Rhys begins to worry that he’s gonna smell permanently like burgers and fries. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing, necessarily, just kind of…not what he wanted to be known for.

Rhys and Vaughn get called in for a Hyperion meeting, where Jack begrudgingly tells them that the prank war’s put on hold till the exams are over, thanks to the school being a whiny pissbaby. His words, not Rhys’. Throughout the entire meeting, Vaughn sits, frozen next to Rhys with his head ducked down, and the moment Jack says “Okay, that’s it, get out and study hard, everybody gets pizza from me if they get at least one A” Vaughn’s prodding Rhys to stand up and leave, urgency making him practically vibrate against Rhys’ side.

“Okay, I’m moving, I’m moving!” Rhys laughs, and allows himself to be pushed towards the exit. There are free tacos in the kitchen, but Vaughn looks anxious enough that Rhys is willing to forego free food for his bro.

“Well, move faster,” Vaughn mutters. “What’s the point of those legs of yours if you’re not gonna _move_.”

Just for that, Rhys hooks one of his legs around Vaughn’s, slowing them both down to a halt as Vaughn swears and tries to untangle them.

“Heya, kiddos.” Rhys freezes, and Vaughn freezes right beside him as a pair of heavy arms sling across their shoulders.

“Hey.” Rhys squeaks, turning his head slowly only to see Jack’s face, pressed up close between his and Vaughn’s.

Next to him, Vaughn lets out a barely audible whimper.

“What’s the rush? Got somewhere to go?” Jack digs his chin into Rhys’ shoulder before he lets go of them, swinging around to stand in front of them instead. He flicks his gaze between them, teeth bared in a shark’s grin.

Rhys straightens up beneath that gaze, snapping to attention. “No! I think?” Rhys says uncertainly, darting his gaze at Vaughn. To his surprise, Vaughn looks almost petrified, eyes fixed upwards on Jack’s face like he’s seeing a crocodile up close.

“Good, good.” Jack says. “Wanted to congratulate you, Rhysie, was it? Good job on those pranks so far, you’ve made me- and Hyperion- very proud.”

Rhys flushes, beaming even as he ducks his head and rubs his neck. Jack’s been pretty generous with the praise for Rhys’ pranking, but it never fails to make him feel all warm and pleased inside. It probably doesn’t help that Jack’s even handsomer in person, the angular planes of his face animated and brilliant, and Rhys might or might not have had a couple of…dreams. Nothing scandalous, just Jack (and sometimes his twin) standing there, being ridiculously handsome, and smiling at Rhys. That’s it. Really.

… _Really_.

“Thanks, Jack!” Rhys chirps, and claps a hand onto Vaughn’s shoulder. “Vaughn helped with most of them, so he should get credit too, really.”

Jack looks at Vaughn, and his smile turns a hair sharper. “Vaughn, huh?”

Feeling like he’s missing out on something, Rhys looks between Jack, who’s now watching Vaughn with something like predatory interest, and Vaughn, who’s trying desperately not to make eye contact to the point where he’s practically looking at the ceiling.

“Um. Bro?” Rhys says, concerned. He lets his hand drop, and contemplates taking a step back from the intense staring-not-staring going on between the two.

Before Vaughn can say anything- although it doesn’t _look_ like he’s going to say anything any time soon- Jack snorts, and claps a hand onto Vaughn’s shoulder.

“See you around…Vaughn.” Jack’s hand on Vaughn’s shoulder tightens, before he lets go, and steps back, grinning at both of them.

The moment Jack turns away, Vaughn grabs Rhys’ hand, and _books it_ out of there.

“Okay, bro, I was gonna wait for you to bring it up, but I am so curious, holy shit,” Rhys says the moment they’re back in the safety of their room.

Vaughn doesn’t turn back until he’s done checking and rechecking their three locks (hah, who’s paranoid _now_?) and then he sighs, and thumps his forehead against the door.

“I…At the Halloween party. I might have madeoutwithNisha.” Vaughn’s words are barely audible as he mutters into the door, and Rhys is convinced he’d heard wrongly.

“You gotta speak up, dude. Because I heard you say you made out with Nisha, and that…can’t be right…” Rhys trails off as Vaughn moans, and thumps his head against the door again. “Wait. Nisha? As in, _Nisha Kadam_?”

“Do we know of any other Nisha?” Vaughn retorts, something of his old spark coming back as he turns and gives Rhys an unimpressed look.

“Like, Jack’s girlfriend, that Nisha? Jack, our frat president?” Rhys says, aware that he’s repeating himself to the point of sounding ridiculous, but needing to confirm nonetheless.

“Yes, god. It was at Lilith’s party, and I was in the middle of the crowd and kind of tipsy because Sasha challenged me to a kegstand—”

“Oh, right, the one where everybody got to see your abs? Heard you killed it, by the way, good job bro.”

“Yes, that kegstand, and thanks, bro! Much appreciated. Anyway, I was dancing with someone in a cat costume, and- she had a mask! How would I have known!” Vaughn whines, lying down on the floor. “She was really hot, bro…and a really good kisser too.”

Realization hits Rhys. “Oh god, the purple lipstick.”

“Yeah…” Vaughn sighs, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. “I didn’t even realize it was Nisha until she brought me to this room, and Jack was in there, and she pulled off her mask, and I thought I was gonna die, bro. Like, this is it, this is how I go. With a boner and while wearing a Mario costume. So I ran. Before either of them could kill me first.”

Rhys stares at Vaughn, dumbfounded. Vaughn continues on, oblivious.

“I dunno why she even brought me to Jack though, like, I’ve heard of those guys who want to watch someone else with their girlfriend, but somehow I don't think Jack’s one of those dudes.” Vaughn pauses, and frowns. “Or that Nisha would let him do that. I dunno, it was weird. Anyway, I’ve been avoiding them both, and was doing pretty well until _somebody_ got us caught by Jack earlier.”

“Bro,” Rhys finally says. Vaughn turns to him, eyebrows going up quizzically. “Vaughn, buddy. I think you ran out on a possible three-way.”

“Wait.” Vaughn sits up. “What?”

Rhys slides down to join him on the floor, hands moving as he tries to describe what he means. “I mean, you guys were getting it on, right? And she brings you to a room, and her boyfriend’s in there- come on, dude, that’s like a porno setup for a three-way right there!”

Vaughn splutters, and smacks Rhys’ hands down. “What! I don’t- Okay, first of all, TMI on the shit you've been watching. Second of all, don't project your weird Jack fantasies onto me!”

“I’m serious!”

Vaughn pauses, a little wild-eyed. “What!”

“Yeah, man.” Rhys extricates his hands from Vaughn’s grip, and pats Vaughn on the shoulder. “Congratulations, bro. You just cockblocked yourself. From a three-way. With Nisha and _Jack_.”

“Oh my god.” Vaughn whispers, eyes still goggling a bit.

“I dunno if I’m more in awe or jealous of you right now,” Rhys says, a little wistfully. Both Jack and Nisha are super hot, and in Vaughn’s place, Rhys would have happily jumped into that room, but then Rhys likes to think he’s not as oblivious as Vaughn clearly is when it comes to attraction.

“Okay, no. No.” Vaughn shakes his head. “You’re just letting your weird mancrush on Jack color your logic.” He rubs at his face. “Man, god, I’m just…gonna stick to avoiding the crap out of both of them for now.”

“Wasted opportunity, I’m just saying.” Rhys raises an eyebrow at Vaughn. “You know, you could always just _ask_ them.”

“Yeah, I’ll rather go with the more likely explanation: that it was all some Halloween trick, and stay the hell away from both of them.” Vaughn says. “Mostly because that plan has less chances of me getting my ass kicked by Jack, who terrifies me, and his girlfriend, who terrifies me _even more_. She carries a whip around, Rhys! A whip!”

“Hot,” Rhys says immediately, just to get Vaughn to groan and swipe at his face. “Okay, but seriously bro. I’m just saying. Three-way. With Jack and Nisha.”

“ _No_.” Vaughn says, although Rhys is pretty sure he sees something like intrigue in his eyes. Still, he thinks it might be better to leave things for now, so he just shrugs.

“Sure thing, broski. Sure thing.”

\---

So with the embargo placed on the prank war, Rhys falls into studying with new fervor. Angel joins him, partly because they’re studying for the same classes, and partly because Angel admitted that she loves Gaige, but that Gaige is quite honestly a _terrible_ study partner.

“I mean, she’s like a genius, you know,” Angel says, one night when she’s in Rhys’ room, stretched out on Rhys’ bed while Rhys spins around in Vaughn’s desk chair. Vaughn’s out, working late in the business building, so they have the room to themselves as they take turns to quiz each other. Or rather, that’s what it’d started out as, but they got…distracted.

“She actually made a miniature version of that Deathtrap robot she planned out at the Halloween party, and I hear her professor nearly had a heart attack. I think I can see what you’re talking about,” Rhys says drily, flipping the cards over in his hand as he watches Angel.

“I know! And like, okay, I’m not saying I’m dumb or anything—”

“Angel.” Rhys cuts in, sitting upright. “I’ve seen your work, you’re like, equally a genius as Gaige, what the hell? No false modesty allowed in this room.” He flicks a card at Angel’s face, and sniggers when it flutters down onto her cheek harmlessly.

Angel groans, and covers her face. “Okay, okay, fine. We met at this…school for gifted kids, so. It’s just. She’s like the kind of genius who _gets_ things, things in one particular field, and everything else…” She sighs. “She came to this school for me, you know? I mean, the mech engineering department here is pretty excellent too, but it’s also because she wanted to keep me company. She doesn’t _need_ a degree, we both got offered places right off the bat, but I’m the one who wanted to do the whole normal route, so.”

“Whoa,” Rhys says, not really sure how to respond to that.

“Yeah. So I feel bad for like, not studying with her and stuff, but…she doesn’t study, she doesn’t _need_ to, but I wanna…” Angel gestures vaguely, and trails off.

“No man, I’m sure she understands,” Rhys says. “Not like you two want to be stuck together at the hip all the time or something, right?”

“Nah,” Angel says, wrinkling her nose. “She gets twitchy if she has to stay in one place for too long. Said she was glad I _found another nerd to study with_ , her words, not mine.”

“I’m not a nerd! Although, it’s not like we’re getting much studying done right now.” Rhys says, looking down at his cards and grimacing.

“We’ve been at it since lunch, Rhys. I think we actually did pretty good today,” Angel points out, and then yawns. “Okay, I should probably head back, it’s kinda late. Gaige is staying over tonight, and I probably shouldn’t leave her alone with Sasha, who knows what the two of them might get up to.”

“A terrifying thought,” Rhys says, with complete and utmost sincerity.

Angel laughs, and rolls off Rhys’ bed to stand up, shaking her hair out of what Gaige likes to call her business-ponytail as she goes. With her hair down, she looks a lot younger, and Rhys suddenly wonders what it must be like, for her and Gaige, to be both so alone in their youth amongst everybody else, but to also have each other. It sounds nice.

Just then, Angel’s phone rings, except it’s not her usual cheerful chirping ringtone but the Imperial March.

“Um,” Rhys says.

“Oh god, it’s Jack.” Angel makes a face, and slumps back down onto Rhys’ bed. “I don’t wanna answer his call,” she says plaintively, flipping the phone around in her hand.

“What’s he calling about at this time of the night anyway?”

“No, he’s just…” Angel wrinkles her nose. “He’s a control freak, and really over protective. If I went out, I had to give him hourly reports on where I was. All the way till I was 15.”

“Hourly _reports_?” Rhys can’t help the scandalized tone to his voice.

“Yeah, I know.” Angel laughs, hollowly. “Gaige had that reaction too.” She shakes her head. “To be fair to him, he’s the one who practically raised us, me and Tim. Our parents were…not great. Jack was a better parent than they were, but he was also a kid when he had to take over, and things just got…messy.”

Rhys nods to that, not really sure how else to respond. The room is silent for a while, and he’s wondering if he should maybe say something, when the Imperial March breaks the silence.

“Oh, jeez. I should take this, sorry.”

“No, no, it’s cool.” Rhys stands up, and heads towards the door. “I’m gonna get us some chips before you go, let you have the room to yourself.”

“Thanks, Rhys.” Angel smiles, weakly, but a smile nonetheless. “Barbeque flavor?”

“Gross, but okay.” Rhys ducks the pen she flings at him and heads out.

By the time he gets back, Angel’s done with her call, but she doesn’t look too happy either. She forces a smile when Rhys returns, a smile that turns more genuine when Rhys waves the packet of chips at her.

“Thanks, Rhys. Okay, I should probably head off though, before it gets even later. Gaige is coming to pick me up, says something about wanting to test if Deathtrap ‘can even lift’, I’m not sure what that means and I’m kind of afraid to ask, honestly.”

They sit in silence for a moment, contemplating that statement, before Angel visibly shakes herself out of it.

“Okay, going for real. More studying tomorrow? I’ll bring milkshakes from The Bunker!”

“ _Yes_ , please,” Rhys says fervently. “To milkshakes. It’s a less enthusiastic yes to studying.”

Angel narrows her eyes at him. “We’ve got _two days_ to our final, Rhys. Two days!”

Groaning, Rhys slumps down onto his bed, and covers his face with a pillow. “Don’t remind me,” he mumbles half-heartedly.

Giggling, Angel makes sure to wait till Rhys pulls the pillow off before flinging Rhys’ blanket at his face, and then darting out of the room with a cheerful goodbye.

\---

Two days after Rhys’ exams end, and he finally feels like he’s recovered from the horrible, sleepless, no-good ordeal that was exam week (or rather, exam 3-days for him, thanks to a lucky schedule), he takes the leftover glitter from when he’d been glittering up August’s fan, and sends it to August in a spring loaded box.

He hears that the screaming went on for _ten whole minutes_. Worth getting his hands all glittery, really.

\---

The next day, Rhys is maybe reconsidering that attitude.

He’d woken up in an empty room, Vaughn once again having texted last night to say that he’d be out late, but would see Rhys in the afternoon for lunch. He’s been doing that a lot more often lately, and Rhys is mildly jealous of the apparently regularly recurring parties going on in the business/accounting faculty. Still, having the whole room to himself once in a while was pretty nice, all things told.

So when he wakes up, he’s feeling pretty good, all the way until he opens his door. Or, tries to. _Someone_ , obviously an incredibly annoying Pandoran, has seen fit to tape newspaper into a sheet over his door, and then fill the gap between the newspaper wall and the door with balled up paper. So when Rhys opens his door, he ends up with a face full of paper balls, and a growing desire to _wipe August from the face of this earth_.

Scowling, he settles for gathering all the paper and unfolding them, because joke’s on August, Rhys was actually running out of paper, and now he’s got a whole supply for free. Somewhat crumpled, but still.

Most of them are blank sheets (he adds “tree-killer” to his mental list of reasons why August is a terrible person), some are covered in messy equations, half crossed out, and clearly rough workings from August’s homework. Some, however, have doodles on them. Ugly little doodles of the usual, predictable things like dogs, space rockets, cars, and, weirdly enough, what…kind of looks like Rhys?

He presses one particular piece flat, and stares down at a hideous, but undeniable likeness of him, riding a giant version of Dumpy off into the stars. It’s…actually kind of cute, and Rhys scowls, mildly flattered and trying not to be about how August remembers what Dumpy’s supposed to look like. Instead, he tries to focus on how _ugly_ the doodle of him is. August has apparently seen fit to give him approximately five feet of forehead, as well as ridiculously stick thin legs that stretch out way beyond proportion. Rhys glances down at his legs, suddenly feeling really self-conscious. Were they really that gangly?

He shakes the thought off, reminding himself that August also had some pretty gangly legs himself. Except not so skinny, because he’s an asshole who _works out_ or some shit, like a narcissist.

Fuelled with the desire for vengeance against August and his stupidly buff body, Rhys finishes putting away his new stock of free paper, and leaves to get materials for his revenge.

\---

The next morning, Rhys heads up to August’s floor with Vaughn’s lock picks, a 15-pack of balloons, and a stack of printouts of Jack’s face. Angel, who’d rolled her eyes but agreed to help anyway, is off having lunch with August and Sasha and Gaige, leaving Rhys free to break into August’s room for the next two hours or so.

Or rather, try to. Vaughn made it look so easy, but Rhys is having trouble, despite Vaughn’s teachings.

When Rhys finally gets the door open, he’s twenty minutes behind schedule, which means a lot of huffing and panting as he tries to fill the balloons as quickly as he can without blowing so hard that he ends up doing something embarrassing, like pass out on August’s floor. The mental image of August coming back to Rhys, passed out on his floor with the remnants of his failed prank lying around him, is enough to make Rhys take a break every few balloons or so. While he catches his breath, he sticks Jack’s handsome face onto the balloons he’s already blown up, and sticks _those_ balloons into various hiding places around August’s room.

Some go into the closet, to hopefully give August a heart attack the next time he goes to get another one of his interchangeable, boring t-shirts and jeans. Some go under his desk. A few balloons, Rhys doesn’t even blow up very much at all, just enough so that he can stick Jack’s face on them, and then stick them into easily overlooked places.

He’s in August’s bathroom, contemplating whether or not he wants to leave the balloon with Jack’s face inside the toilet bowl where it is – on the one hand, August will _definitely_ not be expecting that. On the other hand, Jack’s face. In a toilet bowl. Rhys isn’t sure he wants to do that to a likeness of his charismatic leader – when he hears August’s voice, getting louder as he gets closer to the door of his room.

Panicked, Rhys darts out, grabs up his materials, and darts back into the toilet, only to silently smack himself in the forehead because now he’s trapped in August’s toilet. Goddamnit, August wasn’t supposed to be back so early!

Juggling the bag of leftover balloons and Jack printouts in one arm, Rhys fumbles at his phone with the other, about to text Angel to ask why August came back so early, when something August is saying catches his attention.

“—call it a crush, Sash. I don’t have a _crush_ , stop laughing! No, mancrush isn’t better. Stop.” August sounds disgruntled, which is normal, but he also sounds…embarrassed? And- did he say crush? “I know, fuck. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

Rhys steps closer to the bathroom door despite himself. He knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but at the same time, he can’t help but lean in closer, hold his breath so that he can hear.

“He’s just- he’s…I like him, okay? And maybe I shouldn’t have- Yeah, I saw.” August sighs, voice coming closer to the bathroom, and Rhys steps back, eyes widening. “No, I’m not _swooning_ , fuck off.” Rhys turned around, but the toilet was pretty small, and he had nowhere to go.

“Heh, you’re one to talk. I still have your drunken texts from last night, I’m just sayin’. Kinky, Sash. Very kinky.”

August’s voice gets louder, and then fades off as he walks past the toilet, and Rhys breathes out a sigh of relief, only to jump when August barks out a laugh, right outside the door.

“Can you blame me though? Did you see those pants he was wearing the other day? Jesus, fuck, his _ass_ ,” August says, right as he opens the door.

Rhys freezes where he is, staring at August. August stares back. He’s holding his phone up to his ear, but seems to have forgotten it’s there. Rhys can faintly hear Sasha’s voice coming from the phone, sounding increasingly confused, as he and August stare at each other in awkward silence.

“Um,” Rhys says, hands clutching his bag of balloons to himself as he tears his gaze away from August to look anywhere, literally anywhere else.

“What the fuck,” August says flatly. “Sasha, I gotta go. Call you later.” He ends the call, cutting off Sasha’s stream of questions, and slides his phone into his pocket, still staring at Rhys all the while.

“Hi?” Rhys tries.

“How did you- wait fuck, did you hear all of that?” August blanches, stepping away from the bathroom.

“Yeah, um. Sorry about that, I shouldn’t have been listening, but don’t worry dude, I’m not homophobic or anything,” Rhys says, words tumbling out of his mouth as he inches towards the doorway, mentally urging August to step back further so Rhys can hopefully make a dash for it.

“Wait, wh—”

“I mean, I would wish you happiness with your mancrush and his ass-” Rhys wrinkles his nose. “But I’m still kinda bitter about my shampoo, so I hope he turns out to have really disgusting taste in food and you end up going to eat at gross places for your dates or something. Really gross places.”

“Wait, _what_?”

“What?”

“I don’t- What are you talking about? No, what are you even _doing_ here?” August looks about as confused as Rhys feels, but he’s at least backed up enough that Rhys thinks he might be able to make a run for it.

“I…have to go,” Rhys says. “Vaughn needs me. I can hear him calling.”

“You guys live _three floors down_ ,” August says helplessly.

“We have a magical bond of bro-ship,” Rhys says with dead seriousness, eyeing the space between August and the door. “Uh. Good luck with your wooing? I guess.”

When August blinks at him, looking even more confused than before, Rhys takes the opportunity to run, and darts out, fleeing the scene of the crime.

**Author's Note:**

> coming up next: pranks! ice cream sacrilege! obligatory campus coffee shop!
> 
> ps should i be tagging for background pairings or nah???


End file.
